Opera de Romance
by Sunlight-Scars
Summary: The newest BPRD recruit - a vampire - unwittingly wins Nuada’s fancy and soon finds herself faced with an impossible choice. Save the world for loyalty, or destroy it for love?
1. I: Stare

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to _Hellboy II_.

A/N: The title comes from the songs "Opera de Romance: I. Stare" and "Opera de Romance: II. Embrace" by Virgin Black. The songs inspired this story greatly, and I just couldn't come up with a title any more appropriate. The lyrics before the first chapter don't really have much to do with the story other than getting me in the mood to write it, so I thought I should give them a little recognition.  
I'm still not sure if I'm completely happy with this story, so any feedback is greatly appreciated.

**Opera de Romance**

"_Gimme something that I missed  
A hand to hold, wild and what it seems  
Kill the king, when love is the law,  
And the well turn round…"_  
- Sisters of Mercy, "This Corrosion"

I. Stare

Sunlight seeped dangerously around the edges of the drawn curtains. Vanja enjoyed it, despite the potential danger. But then, she guessed she was probably old enough to withstand the sun, though she wasn't really eager to test that. But like most vampiri, Vanja enjoyed the light more than she'd let anyone know.

She released her hair from the day's confines, letting the dark mahogany waves flow over her shoulders. The day was, on the whole, dull. Perks between the mind-numbing drone of being talked at in meetings included a little reading accomplished in the library, and a heated argument or two between Red and Liz. These days, the entire BPRD staff was simultaneously amused and endangered by the couple's squabbles. Vanja didn't bother to suppress her smile at the thought.

It was different for her now, among all these others. Vanja was a solitary creature, and demanded (sometimes threatened) to be such, hence she was allowed her own apartment rather than constantly staying cooped up in the BPRD headquarters. But it seemed, time and time again, she found herself in the middle of some motley crew, taking on some ridiculous task. She reminisced a little as she changed into a black silk nightgown and climbed through the canopy curtains and into bed. Her vampiric eye watched little particles of dust dance in the shafts of light the window's drapes let into the room. She let out a sigh and closed her eyes.

Immediately, she heard the soft rustle of clothing - nothing, in itself, to shock her; she often had uninvited visits from the others on the BPRD team, being that not everyone shared her internal clock. But what was really disturbing, captivating even, was his scent. It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. And it was an _experience_, his scent. Vanja opened her eyes, breathing a deep, soundless gasp, expecting to find herself in the midst of a meadow, with that smell covering her senses.

Standing in the semi-darkness of the room, he could have passed for a vampire. But vampiri didn't smell like that. Nothing smelled like that…but elves. And that was only in theory. Vanja had never seen, met, smelled, an elf before. Despite the fact that she herself was a _vampire_, she still found the word _elf _hard to roll around in her mind. Such a strange concept, a strange culture, coupled by the facts that it was such an ancient race, and that popular fiction had distorted it so. But he didn't _look _like an elf. His skin was as pale as the dead, his hair long and white-blond. His garments were dark, black and red, generally accepted vampiric colors. But they were the dressings of royalty, Vanja could make no mistake. Royalty and war.

"Your Majesty," she greeted, knowingly.

He moved a little closer, placing himself in the small rays of sunlight. And all of a sudden his skin, his face, looked absolutely _alive_. Not at all the resemblance to the undead he displayed in the shadows. And Vanja realized immediately that he was a creature meant for the sun. And she felt a pang of tragedy. A sadness for him, and for herself.

"Your Grace," he answered, just as knowingly, giving a small nod of his head as a show of respect. His voice was soft and sweet as honey, yet his polite words only thinly veiled how forceful his voice had the potential to be.

Vanja was taken aback, shocked from the way he addressed her - after all, she'd only had title for a small time. In France. In 1765. But, obviously, the question was: how did _he _know that? Could he read her mind? Vanja, strangely, couldn't read his, aside from what he let her know - wanted her to know - that he was Nuada Silverlance, Elven Prince of Bethmoora. And no doubt he let her know this so that she would know how to address him. That she would know that he demanded respect. Nevertheless, she decided to press the subject.

"Forgive me, Highness," she began, straightening herself in bed, sitting up and resting her back against the headboard, "but, have we met?"

"Not personally," he replied, a small smirk adorning his dark lips.

He stepped forward, out of the small light and into the shadows of the room again. Moving closer. As he did so, his fingers brushed over the light fabric which formed the bed's canopy, the material rippling like water at his touch.

"I am sorry, Majesty, but I'm afraid I have little patience. What is it you wish of me?" Vanja coaxed.

Nuada's manner was unhurried. His eyes, a unique green-gold like the color of autumn leaves, were soft - softer than usual, Vanja speculated. For it was obvious he was a warrior, yet it seemed no warrior could have eyes so sweet. And his face, his expression, was one almost of reminiscence. His fingers parted the light curtains of the bed, and he seated himself next to her. Vanja saw clearly, now that he was so close, what it was about his eyes, his face. That slow, soft, nostalgic way about him. It was seduction.

"You know how to speak in the presence of royalty," he observed, his voice sounding impressed, as he placed a hand on the side of her body opposite from where he sat. Despite his gentleness, this kind of bridge he formed over her with his arm, it felt like a cage. For she was trapped now, trapped in his nearness, in his eyes, in his voice. Trapped in the cool, pleasant spring breeze that was his breath.

What an incredible, miraculous, glorious creature he was. To affect her so. She who had seen and felt all, she who had read the lives of millions in one glance into their minds. And there he was, a complete mystery. She couldn't get anything out of his mind. It was closed in a way she had never encountered with vampiri. Because he wasn't of her kind, she couldn't pick up anything at all from him, not even the slightest sliver of information.

"What is it you want from me," she gasped breathily, her words still in a respectful cadence, though she dropped any honorable address.

"You are what I want," he replied, "I want you to join me."

"Why me?" Vanja asked, struggling to keep her voice even, feeling that comfortable meadow breeze on her face again when he spoke.

"You have all the characteristics of a useful ally," he stated a little too matter-of-factly. "And you intrigue me," he added with a much more personal tone in his voice.

"How so?"

"In your existence you've been given title, land, and enough riches to satisfy anyone for many lifetimes. You were even offered a throne once. But you abandon your good fortune time and again. You seem to care little for power, and yet you willingly sacrifice a part of yourself, for _that_."

Nuada meant, of course, Vanja's eye. Several years before, Vanja had cut out her left eye on the battlefield to replace it with the Eye of Fire, an ancient gemstone of devastating power. With her vampiric regenerative abilities, she now looked as though she simply had one red, albeit pupil-less, eye to accompany her other naturally green one.

"I wish to understand these things," Nuada continued. "It seems there is something that means more to you, and I would like to know what it is."

"So you may use it for your own ends?" Vanja accused quickly, surprising herself with her aggressiveness.

Nuada smirked again, then chuckled, softly but heartily. "You needn't read my mind to see right through me. I am impressed. Yes, I _know _that your lust for battle will be useful to me. But I won't lie. There is more than one _personal _end I wish to fulfill when I offer you a place in my ranks."

"And what place would that be?" Vanja snapped, convinced now that Nuada simply wanted her to switch sides, perhaps to have someone to watch the BPRD closely for him. And that, of course, wouldn't happen.

Nuada leaned closer, mere inches between their faces.

"By my side," he whispered, his breath cool to her skin and floral to her senses.

Vanja scoffed. "Who are you and what do you want from me?" she demanded, dropping the archaic pleasantries altogether.

Nuada's manner changed with hers. The arm that he had used to cage her body close to his he now raised, a strong hand instantaneously gripping her face, fingers spread across her cheek and thumb under her chin. The action was more for intimidation than threat, obviously. There was nothing he could do to her and they both knew it.

"You are a child compared to me," he told her, the commander and king that he was coming out in his voice now. "But you are strong, and I have watched you. I may not need a living army, but I do need a living court. I need loyalties. And eventually, I will need a queen."

"What for? I couldn't give you heirs," Vanja replied coolly, the pressure he was putting on her throat having no affect whatsoever on her.

"I think you'd be surprised what you could do. In my world." He moved even closer, whispering directly into her ear, "be stubborn with me if you like, but think about it. Ask yourself what about this world is worth saving."

And then he was gone. Faster than even Vanja's vampiric senses could register.

* * *

When she finally did find rest, he was there in her dreams. Like most vampiri, Vanja didn't dream anymore. She missed dreams, like many others did, but the advantage to being denied dreams, was that whenever a vampire _did _dream, it was like an alarm for danger. Because dreams didn't come naturally for vampiri, obviously, when a vampire dreamt, it was because someone else was putting the dreams there. Vanja had before suffered aggressive bouts of memories returning to her while she slept. But she had never experienced anything like this in her vampiric years.

At first, it was truly a _dream_. Finding herself in a sunlit meadow clearing. The trees the brightest, most vibrant green - a color she doubted reality could fathom. The flowers all shapes and sizes and of colors that stretched beyond imagination. The sun warmed her skin, _heated _it. But in the most comfortable way. Her hair seemed weightless in the warm sun and the sweet breeze, in a way that was almost like being underwater. Her vampiric skin, usually unaffected by the elements, was ultra sensitive to even the slightest rustle of wind. She wore little - a simple, lightweight, ankle-length, almost-transparent gown with a wide collar that hung low around her shoulders. Markedly dream-like, Vanja could not distinguish the color of the dress. It seemed toned to her skin, but her skin seemed a color of a warmer tone, more pinkish, more alive.

But, when he appeared, she knew it was not a dream. Not a natural one. This had to be his fabrication for her. But, when he appeared, she almost didn't care. And, for a blinding second, when she saw him step out from between the trees, she didn't care _at all_. Didn't care that this could be manipulation. Manipulation like the kind she had used so often on the minds of her _prey._

He was bare-foot and shirtless, but the small bits of clothing they both wore seemed out of place in the forest. And this thought occurred to Vanja without lust. Anything artificial just seemed so wrong in this environment that was the definition of purity. Running her eyes over him, Vanja was so in awe that she wouldn't have been able to get her mind working enough to create the emotion of lust anyway.

Here in the sunlight, in the slightly greenish glow of the foliage, Vanja had never seen a creature more _alive_. The way he exuded life defied explanation and defied the ability to pinpoint what exactly it was that made him look so _vital_. His long hair shimmered, near to the point of _sparkling_. His skin glowed, but it was a soft, yellowish glow, like the light from a dim lamp in a dark room. Accordingly, the color of his skin was warm and inviting, not at all the undead pallor she had seen when he visited her room. He was a god, she was sure of it. He was imbued with something…ethereal.

The smirk he wore was lighthearted and amiable, but there was something smug and slightly villainous laced into it.

"What do you think?" he asked, the words falling from his lips slowly, with perfect and effortless intonation, but arrogance was stowing away deep in the innocent, playful tone.

"What do I think?" Vanja replied. "Everything I _could_ think would be an understatement."

He flashed that deceptive smirk again as he approached her.

"But I _will_ tell you that you are unparalleled in bribery," she added.

"Is that what you think this is?" he asked, resting his hands behind his back and seeming all the more arrogant for the posture. "Bribery?"

"If you tell me it isn't, I'll know you're lying."

"Well, call me a liar if you will, but this isn't bribery. It's a truth. A memory."

"A memory? Yours?" she asked, looking up at his face and startled at how close to her he was. Despite what she'd always heard about elves supposedly being shorter than humans, Nuada was, in fact, a good deal taller than her.

"Yes. A memory of what this world once was."

Vanja suddenly found herself stricken by sadness. Once was. She couldn't deny that. No one could. No one could deny that the world was once beautiful. And that it was made ugly by humans.

"Could you give me this?" Vanja abruptly found herself whispering, her eyes darting around the clearing. The words left her mouth before she was even knowledgeable to their birth.

"Yes," he answered again. "We can make the world like this again." His voice was low and soft, impossibly close, like he was practically a voice in her head. But his breath on her cheek was as sweet as the wind blowing through the trees.

Vanja looked back to him and was captivated by his eyes. His hands moved to her waist, brushing against the fabric of her gown slightly, which might as well have been just like touching her skin, the garment was so light. Suddenly she couldn't keep her hands off him. Her fingers traced the contours of his chest, his skin smooth and soft, taut over hard muscle. Inexplicably, she felt dizzy. She should hate him for this. For taking such control over her. Her. A vampire. A dead woman. She shouldn't be affected by anything.

"I can give you _this_, too," he told her, his voice half in and half outside of her mind, his words echoing with the way he put them into her mind as he spoke them.

"What's that?" she muttered, her tone sounding more like she hadn't heard him than she was asking for clarification.

He held her face lightly with his fingers, looking at her with a certain sincerity on his face. She gazed back at him with heavy eyelids, intoxicated.

"The sun," he began, dragging the back of his hand over her cheek. "The feeling," he continued, referring to the new way that she could feel the warmth of the sun or the slight chill of the breeze. His hand moved down across her bare arm, his touch maddeningly slight. "Life," he concluded.

Vanja's drooping eyes fluttered fully open at the word. What did that mean, he could give her life? That he could make her mortal? Human? But then why would he want her, just to make her human, the thing he despised?

"Think about it," he advised, before disappearing and leaving her alone, in bed, in the dark.

He'd said those last words as if he'd be leaving her to make a decision. In reality he'd strategically planted a million seeds of question and doubt so well that she had no choice but to follow through and at least go to him, at least pry for an explanation rather than seductive little half-truths. She sighed and slipped out of bed, walking to the window to fling the curtains open and look out at the newborn dark.


	2. II: Embrace

A/N: Big thanks to my two reviewers. Reviews mean the world to me. You have no idea how happy they make me. So, keep the reviews coming. Please.

_"I give you, at parting  
A last light,  
Forget-me-not...  
Then our fate overtakes us  
Forgive me, stay by me"_  
- Eisbrecher, "Vergissmeinnicht" (translated from the German lyrics)

II. Embrace

Vanja followed the map she'd found in her mind when she'd woken. It was his invitation to her, obviously. Not just a way for her to find him, but his way of extending trust. An extremely daring move on his part. One that had made her even more curious about him. Here he was, giving her detailed directions to his location, when she had made no promise whatsoever to meet him, or even to keep his visit secret from her colleagues. She could hand his location over to Red and the others as easily as she could explore the location secretly, by herself. Of course the latter was what she would be doing. She was a solitary creature, after all.

She'd felt terribly, disgustingly human that night as she fussed with herself over what she should wear. She doubted he'd care, of course, but she found herself unable to help it. By the time she'd reached an ensemble consisting of a leather skirt and a lacy top, both black, her mind was saying "fuck it," and she ceased to care. She felt that the clothes were either going to make a very good or very bad impression. Upon reflection, she realized she truly had nothing riding on what Nuada thought of her. It wasn't like she was looking for a way out of the BPRD. She'd be just fine if she never saw Nuada again. But what of his talk of life - the life he claimed he could give her? Her emotions were at war, to say the least.

As Vanja made her way through the streets, she thought of what Nuada inevitably wanted. The Golden Army. She knew the stories. Knew that his plan would ultimately be to war with the humans, to take back this world. Honestly, she couldn't say she was too adverse to the thought. It wasn't a stretch to think that this world would be better in the hands of the Bethmoora Elves - the "sons of the earth" than in the hands of the humans.

And she knew the myths, too. A Finn, after all, she knew her Norse paganism. She knew that the myths told of elves as fertility gods. If that was true, then, of course, what Nuada told her about giving her "life" made sense. What was raising the curiosity levels in her mind was the technical part of it. How did it work? Her curiosity led her like a magnet through the streets and through the hidden entrance to the "troll market."

She remembered with a smile that Red and the others didn't think this place existed. Red had even looked for it specifically once - in _his _way of looking for things, of course, which left most things _over_looked. It dawned on her suddenly that the others didn't even know about Nuada yet. They were still trying to figure out the "tooth fairies." Vanja chuckled. Well, that was one mystery solved. Obviously it was Nuada behind that. She occupied her mind straightening out what the others knew, and what she knew in comparison, and just how much she wasn't quite sure yet that she wanted them to know. As she neared where she knew him to be, all the facts fell from her mind and she was overwhelmed with all her old questions again. Questions only he could answer.

Her curiosity drove her, along with a growing sense of something that, for the first time in her existence, she didn't want to admit. Lust. Intrigue. Maybe romance. Maybe love. Maybe not… Usually it was very easy. She was a woman, men were men. Even if they were vampires, they were still men. But when her opposite was no longer a man, when he was an elf, it was surprising how changing a few letters changed the whole picture. Changed her feelings from confidence to doubt when it came to the opposite sex. Besides, Nuada seemed the kind who would be too easy to fall for, and maybe that was the simple change that made her suddenly not want to admit the desire to herself. Maybe it was a simple case of playing hard to get. And maybe it was that his offer seemed too out-of-the-blue and too simple to be without any strings. She had to get to the bottom of it, to figure out what he really wanted. Until that time, she'd have to put the lust on hold.

Vanja moved tentatively toward a small stairwell set into the paved street. Tiny two-headed creatures ran to and fro around the stairs, as if waiting or keeping watch. Vanja knelt gracefully to get a look at the creatures. They didn't seem surprised by her presence, in fact they spoke to her, but not in a language she could understand. Since the little things didn't understand English, or any language she knew for that matter, she couldn't translate their words by searching their minds. But one thing she could get from their minds was Nuada. He made his home just below these stairs.

She took a deep, very unnecessary breath to try and steady her nerves, but nothing she could do would be able to calm her emotions. She felt that strange disgust again. Knowing that there were so many human characteristics she'd retained for three centuries. What would Nuada think? Vanja shook it off and forced herself into bravery as she descended the stone steps.

The stairs emptied into a dark, cavernous room, most of it unlit. The only light was from lamps surrounding him, and a fire slowly dying on a small stone hearth. There was a little alcove under the stairway, the small space almost disturbingly contrasting the rest of the area. The little room was brightly lit, though with soft, comfortable light, and furnished with simple but elegant, luxurious-looking bedding. And this is where he sat, eyes closed and posture flawless, looking to be in meditation. Vanja raised an eyebrow in curiosity, crouching inside the alcove.

"Vanja," he stated suddenly in greeting, his face relaxed and expressionless, his eyes still closed.

"Nuada," she answered back, an intrigued smile on her lips at their new apparent first-name relationship.

"Please, make yourself comfortable," he invited, still statuesque.

Vanja moved deeper into the small room and sat down a few feet from him. As soon as she was comfortable in her position on the soft bedding, he opened his eyes and let his lips form a slight smirk. She had to hold back the urge to gasp. She still could not fathom his beauty. Even now, even here in this place that was so far away from his home, where he looked so out-of-place, where he looked like the undead rather than the lively creature he should be, he was still so beautiful.

"I am pleased you came. Cormamin lindua ele lle," he said suddenly, as if confessing something.

"_My heart sings to see thee," _was what he had so poetically told her in his Elven tongue. He let her pull that from his mind in her own language. What inspired the sudden bout of romanticism or the lapse into his native tongue, she did not know. She gave him a touched but puzzled expression in return. Seeing the look on her face, he briefly averted his eyes, a strange show of embarrassment. The awkward display of affection he'd just attempted to show her was so sweet and touching that Vanja had to resist the urge to kiss him. She offered him her kindest smile and he seemed to understand.

She wondered if his progressively gentler behavior with her was part of some kind of plan. She remembered the previous day, just as the sun was rising, when he'd visited her. His attempt to intimidate her, the rough way he'd handled her, the way his voice was almost threatening. And then he gave her that beautiful dream, confusing her with his kindness. And now confusing her further with a strange greeting. Could it be his way of making first impressions - to show a fierce side first, then slowly show a softer side? Could it simply be a voicing of honesty? Perhaps he _was_ happy to see her. Or could it be his own version of a "good cop, bad cop" routine? If intimidation doesn't work, try kindness? Vanja didn't know what to think.

"I hope that we can be honest with each other, now that I am here," Vanja ventured, her voice soft.

"I will always be honest with you," he replied quickly, his voice low and just as soft, but forceful, as if defending something very dear.

"I…would like to believe that," Vanja continued slowly. "But your…_offer_ to me. It's incredible. I have a hard time thinking that it is without any conditions. That there are no 'strings attached,' so to speak."

"Is the requirement of your aide in the destruction of the human race not enough of a condition for you?" Nuada asked, seeming intrigued.

"When one is immortal it is just as easy to break alliances as it is to form them, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes," he agreed, smiling. "So I take it that your worry lies in a more personal place."

"Exactly. You've said you'd give me life, said you'd make me your queen, intimated that I could even bear your children. But why? Why court a human woman, when you could have one of your own kind?"

"You are far from human, Vanja."

"Not so far," she argued. "I was a human. I think like a human, feel like a human. I _am _human. The only thing separating me from them is hunger and a beating heart."

"You have powers, great gifts," he reminded her, seeming only to do so in order to see what she would say.

"Unnatural ones. I wasn't born this way. Vampirism is not a birthright…"

"One's path means little in comparison to the destination; what one can achieve."

"Some would disagree with you," Vanja continued to argue.

"_I _disagree with _you_," Nuada reminded, leaning toward her ever so slightly.

Vanja smiled. Could it be that he saw greatness in her that she did not see herself?

"It doesn't matter that I was born a prince and you were born a peasant. That my abilities were given to me at birth and yours at death. What matters is what you have done, who you have become. You could not be less human in my eyes, Vanja. A human is weak, filled with greed and disloyalty, a liar. Your will is strong, you are honest, and you are driven by something far beyond possessions and wealth. To put it simply, you impress me. You intrigue me."

Nuada's face was close to hers now, his fingers softly caressing her cheek, warming her cold skin. His breath so sweet that she had to fight to keep her eyes from closing in desire to savor it.

"I wish I could know if you were using me," she whispered pleadingly, finally speaking exactly what was on her mind.

"Using you for what? What is there that I could use you for that cannot be simple desire? What is there that I would not want you for anyway? A queen, a companion, a warrior to fight by my side. These are not things I would simply 'use' you for," the striking honesty in his eyes was something Vanja could not ignore, and now she was watching him intently, searching him as thoroughly as she could while he spoke.

"You were _my _choice," he continued, "I am yours. I don't want you as a 'spy,' if that's what you're really asking. I would never ask you to betray for loyalty."

"The world can burn, I don't care. The humans can die. But I won't hurt _them_," Vanja told him sternly, surprised at her own conviction, surprised at how strongly she honestly felt for her still-new friends at the BPRD.

"Then I will never ask you to. What I offer you, as I said, is a place at my side, not at my feet. As a queen, you are my equal, not a slave. I do not command you."

Vanja laughed softly. "It's a hard thing to believe coming from…_male _royalty," she replied. She'd certainly seen her share of kings, spent her share of time in their company.

"_Human_ royalty, maybe. I think you'll find my court more integral," he reminded her confidently.

As they talked, he had kept his hand on her. His fingers on her cheek, in her hair, on her neck. She had acclimated to his warm touch. And as a small silence began to fall, she couldn't help her desire to return his touch. Vanja's hand moved shyly to his face, her fingers first brushing through his hair, then daring to trace the lines of his face, the scars or…whatever they were. She wondered. The wonderment was exciting, to touch a creature she'd never before encountered. An elf. Something new. This offer of his was sounding better by the minute.

Rationality told her that she needed to get out of here and think this over. Think about what he was _really _asking her. Think about all the things that would go along with what he said. All the things he _didn't _say. Because being here with him, it was intoxicating. She couldn't think straight here. All that was rolling around in her mind was the word "yes." Yes, I'll be your queen. Yes, I'll help you destroy mankind. Yes, I'll betray anyone for you. She had to get out of here.

But then he kissed her. And she couldn't move. And all too quickly in comparison to their relatively slow physical relationship, she was on her back on the soft blankets, and he was on top of her. Sensation and emotion and sheer intoxication was overwhelming her completely. All her senses were bombarded. She twisted her fingers in his long hair and he ran his hands over her bare legs.

Then her cell phone rang. She broke her lips away from his with a gasp, as if she needed air. She hastily moved her hands between their bodies, coaxing him to pull away from her while she dug her phone out of the small pocket of her skirt. She steadied her voice before she answered.

"Hello?"

"Where are you, Van?" It was Liz.

"Sorry. I slept in. What's up?" Vanja tried to make her voice casual while her eyes bore into Nuada's, hovering above her.

"That new agent is coming in tonight. They want everyone to be there."

"Oh, yeah. Alright. I'll be there in a few."

As usual, Liz hung up as soon as she'd gotten her message across, without saying goodbye. Liz wasn't one for pleasantries, and tonight Vanja was glad for it. As soon as she shut the phone, her lips were back on Nuada's in a passionate kiss.

"I have to go…" she told him, still lying underneath the weight of his lean body.

He gave only a small nod before rolling off of her, ducking out of the alcove, and standing, all in one fluid movement. Vanja followed him, watching him stare into the darkness. She moved close to him, took his face in her hand, opened her lips to speak, but wasn't sure what to say. They stood in silence for a moment, both with things on their minds, but neither willing to speak them.

"Tá mo chroí istigh ionat," Vanja whispered finally, in Gaelic. Somehow she knew he'd understand the language. _My heart is within you_. Her way of letting him know she'd think of him. That, in fact, she knew he would be in her thoughts constantly. She would come back to him. Maybe with an answer. Neither of them could know. For Vanja, it all depended on a balance. Nuada. The BPRD. How one would affect the other. How much one would _endanger _the other. She was not prepared to lose either. And she hoped Nuada understood that.

Vanja gave him one last kiss, then turned her back on him.


	3. III: Shadow

A/N: I'm such a sucker for reviews. I just got chapter 4 done tonight and I was going to wait a few days before I posted these, but I'm loving my reviews so much I couldn't keep this to myself. So, big thanks for the reviews. toothpick99's review of ch. 2 gave me a good, much appreciated laugh after a hard day at work. And Succubus, your review hit the nail on the head with the characters. I'm glad to know that I'm getting clear characterization across.

Reading back over this for the bazillionth time, I feel like it moves a little too quickly, but I didn't want to drag some of this stuff out (like Hellboy's fight with the elemental), because you HAVE seen the movie. I'm not writing a novelization of the film, here. So I try to make that straight-from-the-film stuff brief.

"_Out of darkness I command  
This desolation land  
Eclipse shines above  
Like a shadow of your love"  
-_ The 69 Eyes, "Shadow of Your Love"

III. Shadow

Vanja didn't really know what to think about this new agent. She wasn't as pigheaded as Red, but she wasn't as impressed as Abe. She supposed she was willing to give him a chance. Standing around the table with the others, staring down at one of Nuada's dead 'tooth fairies,' Vanja was curious about Krauss, and she tried to let that curiosity be in the forefront of her mind. She was ill-at-ease around the others, especially Abe, and was of course trying to not let her mood seem too strange. She tried to keep an inconspicuous distance from the empath as the night wore on.

Before she knew it, she found herself coming full circle. Within a short couple of hours, she was back in the troll market, albeit in very different company. The four split up, the men all following their own leads in their own way. Vanja wandered. Took in the sights, the sounds. It was impressive, even if it was not the prettiest place to be. She tried not to let her feet take her right back to Nuada. She kept her mind focused on the others, but mainly on Red. Abe would know when she was reading his thoughts, so she didn't focus too much on him, just kept him on her mental radar, as would be a normal thing to do anyway. And Krauss, she could barely get a reading on him anyway, at least not in the way that she would with someone who wasn't…a ghost, or whatever he was. But Red, he was unassuming. Not _stupid_, just not very observational. She doubted that he even knew it when she was reading his mind. So, when he killed Wink, Nuada's troll accomplice, Vanja was competing with those strange two-headed creatures to get down to Nuada's dwelling.

"Vanja? Vanja, where -" Abe's voice.

Vanja shut off the communicator. She watched one of the little creatures speak to Nuada in its strange language.

From the way the shadows played on his face, she could see his jaw clenched in anger. It wasn't difficult to figure out what the small messenger had told him.

"I'm sorry," Vanja offered sincerely, seating herself behind Nuada and draping an arm over his shoulder.

"No matter," he told her, his voice cold, covering up the emotion. He took her hand in his and turned to look at her. "At least they've given me a reason."

"A reason for what?" she asked, concerned, but unable to resist sliding her fingers through his hair and brushing them against his cheek.

"This," he showed her a golden egg-shaped object which bore intricate designs.

"And what is that?" she asked, intrigued, excited, and frightened all at once.

He smiled, leaned close enough that his forehead touched hers slightly, whispered, "you'll see."

Vanja returned the smile. The two gravitated into a brief kiss, Nuada pulling away first.

"Hurry back," he whispered, his voice sounding playful, almost excited. "They'll get suspicious. And, I wouldn't want you to miss this."

Vanja smiled and rose slowly, her hands trailing over his shoulders. She ascended the small stairs briskly, and turned her radio back on.

"Sorry, Abe. I lost you for a minute. Where are you?"

"We need to get out of here. Meet us outside."

"Let's hope I can find my way back," Vanja replied jokingly.

She caught up with the others, making a show of it as she ran to join them, as if it really had been difficult to find her way back. Her entrance interrupted the escalation of a verbal spar between Red and Krauss.

"Are you okay?" Abe asked with as much curiosity in his voice as concern. Vanja couldn't tell if he sensed the excitement Nuada stirred in her, or if the question was simply a reference to the temporary communication failure.

She nodded. "I'm fine."

Vanja turned to Nuala, giving a small nod. "Your Highness."

Nuala returned the nod, not seeming surprised at all that Vanja knew who she was. Whether it was because Nuala understood that Vanja was a vampire and a telepath, or if Nuala knew about her because Nuada knew about her, Vanja couldn't be sure.

"You."

Everyone turned at the sound of the strong, commanding voice. Only two recognized it.

"You will pay for what happened to my friend down there," Nuada threatened.

Vanja tried to stifle the excitement that rose within her at his words. Tried to prevent herself from thinking how good it felt. Like the old days. Nuada was her freedom, she knew that. So why did she feel so terrible when she thought of betraying Red…Abe…Liz…? She tried to reign in her emotions, knowing that Abe was bound to be picking up on them.

"Yeah, right. Ya' take checks?" Red quipped back, drawing his gun.

"Demon. Born from a womb of shadows, sent to destroy their world, and still you believe you belong?" Nuada questioned, with only a small bit of the intrigue that would creep into his voice when he questioned Vanja.

"We gonna talk all night? 'Cause I'm really sleepy," Red replied with his natural apathetic arrogance.

Nuada's expression held arrogance of his own. He pulled out the golden egg he had shown Vanja earlier. Vanja had to physically hold back her smile of curiosity. She bit her lip.

"No, brother, no!" Nuala cried suddenly, peaking Vanja's interest even more.

What was Nuada about to unleash, what was so terrible that it had his sister begging and Nuada himself making sure that Vanja would see it? Surprisingly, Vanja felt no worry. Maybe it was because she knew HB could handle it, no matter what it was. At this point it wasn't about whether Nuada or Red would win this round, but simply about what the fight would be.

The gold object Nuada held opened, revealing what looked like a large green seed. Vanja furrowed her brow as she watched. Red made a curious sound. Nuada brought the seed-like vessel close to his lips and whispered to it.

"Kill him."

Then he released it, the mysterious object flying past them, then, as if of its own volition, jumping away from them. Vanja couldn't hold back her laugh. What was this? Obviously, Red had a similar reaction.

"It's just a jumping bean!" he complained.

"It's going for water!" Nuala exclaimed, "hurry!"

She turned to Abe, who chased after it, attempting unsuccessfully to catch it. The others stared after it, watching the street as the ground shook and chaos began to engulf the area. Vanja turned back to Nuada. He stared back at her with a soft, loving expression. So soft it was almost sorrowful. He gave her a beautiful smile, then turned and disappeared into the darkness, back underground.

The huge green figure of the forest god erupted from below the street. Vanja was surprised and intrigued by its elegance and immediately regretful that it was treated as just another enemy. Red was soon in action, fighting the elemental, which was surprisingly and sadly easy to defeat. Vanja watched the battle from the ground, standing back with the others and generally keeping out of the line of fire.

When Nuada appeared on the roof of the building where Red was precariously keeping his ground, Vanja pulled the conversation from Red's mind. And she had to wonder if Nuada had let this poor creature die just to prove a point. Whether it was his intention or not, he certainly _did _make a point. And the reactions of civilians to HB's heroics only reinforced that point.

Seeing the carnage of foliage spilt by the elemental, Vanja was saddened, but more than anything, it reminded her of the dream Nuada had given her. In sharp contrast with the bright gash of forest green, seeping over the dark city streets, the cold metal and concrete of the cityscape was made even uglier than usual. Vanja felt heartsick. She just wanted to get out of here. Back to Nuada. Hell, even going back to HQ would be better than staying out here, forced to witness a scene that just epitomized all the reasons why the humans should not have this world. Strangely enough, she didn't blame Red for killing the creature. She didn't even blame Nuada for perhaps knowingly sending the elemental to its death. In a logic that might have made Nuada proud of his work on her, she had hate only for the humans.

Back at the BPRD, Vanja stayed around only long enough to make an appearance, let everyone see her, and wish everyone her own version of a "good night," as she made the pretense of leaving for her apartment. There was only a little less than an hour to sunrise, after all.

Of course she didn't go home. She went straight back to Nuada. Rushing down the narrow, steep stairway and into the dank, Spartan dwelling, Vanja was surprised to see Nuada, spear in hand, _practicing_. Or maybe it wasn't really practice, per se. She stopped immediately where she stood, as if hitting an invisible wall. And she watched him. His movements were graceful and so fast that sometimes the only way she kept her eyes on him was because of the striking contrast of his pale, shirtless torso and long white hair to the darkness. He eventually slowed to a stop, his spear retracting to the size of a knife, his breathing deliciously laborious. Vanja bit at the inside of her lip and inhaled a breath of her own, watching him stand there in the darkness, his perfectly muscled chest heaving from exertion. Nuada looked up at her with a smirk.

"Letting off some steam?" she offered.

"Something like that," he confessed, putting away his weapon.

Vanja still stood at the foot of the stairs, and Nuada rested his arm on the wall next to her, placing his body close to hers. Vanja smiled. She could feel the heat coming off of him. She loved feeling that exertion-induced body heat. It was the best. It reminded her of very old days. Nights spent in battle and in love. War and sex. It colored her vampiric life over and over again. Needless to say, the 21st century was dreadfully boring in comparison. Now she had her warrior. She once again had a battle to join.

Nuada watched her intently. She wondered if he could read her thoughts. His face held an expression of slight curiosity, so she thought maybe he couldn't. Slowly, he reached out a couple fingers to play with her hair. He leaned slightly closer and his other hand found its way to her waist.

"When will you be mine?" he whispered, his nose brushing lightly against hers as he bowed his head slightly.

If she were human, she may not have heard him at all. But her vampiric senses picked up his words loud and clear. There was a kind of pain in his voice. His words were a plea, not a question. She remembered earlier that night. What she had thought about playing hard to get. How could that have only been a few hours ago? Somewhere, suddenly her relationship with Nuada had changed. She wanted him more than anything. And she did not want to play hard to get. She didn't want to let down the others, though. She felt bad about avoiding Abe. For being too brief with the others. Weren't they her friends?

Vanja was sure she felt Nuada's fingers tremble in her hair, she knew she felt his breathing become suddenly, briefly, ragged. A low growl of pain and impatience escaped his lips. It wasn't threatening. It seemed to be directed inward. He was the exact portrait of a man trying not to show his agony. His fingers fell out of her hair and slid across her face to rest on her shoulder, his other hand gliding from her hip to her lower back, bringing them a little closer. His lips hovered close to her jaw. His eyes were shut tight. Vanja wished she could know what was going on behind them. Why couldn't she read his mind? It drove her crazy. But maybe at the moment, she admitted to herself, she really didn't need to. He was making his intentions fairly clear. Vanja wondered for a brief moment if he'd ever had to wait this long for anything in his life. Wondered if he'd ever spent this long courting a female. Something about Nuada told her that he got his way, and he got it quickly. She_ should _make more of an attempt at being the exception.

"Tonight," she breathed against his lips.

Almost immediately, she regretted the word. Regretted the tone in her voice, the thoughts in her mind. She was being too impulsive. It used to be easy to be impulsive. But this was different. Nuada wanted so much more from her than anyone had before. And this time, the consequences were far too permanent to be so impulsive.

Nuada breathed deeply, as if trying to breathe in the word she spoke. Immediately his movements and expressions and the very _essence _of him went from pained to pleased. For a moment, seeing the utter relief he displayed, she forgot the regret. But she knew that she'd have to go back on her word. She needed more time….but, really, what was time going to give her?

He kissed her suddenly. Hard. More intensely than he had before. Vanja wrapped her arms around him, her fingers gliding over the smooth, muscular curves of his back. He pulled away first, after all, he still needed to breathe. Vanja made sure to look smug. Seeing her look, he chuckled. A genuine laugh that was musical and gorgeous.

"Today," he corrected her, his sparkling eyes playful.

Vanja directed her gaze toward the center of the large room, where a perfectly circular shaft of early-morning sunlight was filtering down like a spotlight from the street above. Nuada was the one looking smug now, as he moved away from Vanja, toward the light. He stood right in the center of the circle of light, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. His body seemed to drink in the sunlight. It was the same as the first night he came to her. The way his skin seemed to transform in the sunlight. But this was so much more dramatic. His face, chest, arms, even his hair. It was like watching a black and white film turn to color. Vanja was awestruck.

He held out his hand to her in invitation.

She was psychologically wounded a little by his knowing action, but she knew his game.

Vanja stepped forward, ignoring the hand he offered to her. Instead, she stood in the dark. She reached her hand out, laying it on his chest. The sun warmed her skin immediately, and at first it was comfortable, but the heat grew more and more intense, soon feeling more like fire than light. And she could smell the burning flesh. Vanja ripped her hand away from his body, drawing it back into the darkness, the wounded, smoldering skin hissing the way a hot object would if it were suddenly thrown into snow. Vanja gritted her teeth and stared at Nuada with momentary hatred. She was loathe to play anyone's games, even his.

"I'm sorry," he told her sincerely, this time certainly seeming to read her mind.

He held his hand out silently to her again, this time with his fingers curled into a loose fist. The outstretched arm was an offering, not an invitation. Vanja wanted to leave. To storm out. To throw a temper-tantrum. She did not take kindly to being shown her weaknesses, especially this one, toward which she was intensely bitter. But Nuada's eyes were pleading.

"I _am _sorry," he reinforced. "_Please_, Vanja."

At that moment she didn't want to take anything from him. She didn't want him to have anything to hold over her. Maybe this was it. What Nuada spoke of the night they met. That _something _else that motivated her. Why she never accepted gifts or titles or wealth for any extended period of time. Why she tired of her material possessions. Because it tied her down. Took away her independence.

"Let me give you this," he entreated.

Vanja still hesitated.

"For no other reason than my love for you," he whispered, under his breath as though it were a prayer to himself.

And suddenly Vanja felt tears prick behind her eyes. She hated that there was still no way for her to know what he really meant. But she couldn't stand indecisive any longer. She fell to her knees violently; with no grace whatsoever, she threw herself to the damp stone floor. She grabbed his wrist and sank her teeth into his flesh. Above her, he growled at the sudden pain, but the sound of his next intake of breath rang with pleasure. Physical or psychological, who knew?

Drinking from Nuada was incomparable to anything else Vanja had ever experienced. It was so good that she wanted very badly to stop. His blood was infinitely sweet but never overwhelmingly so, and, at the same time, it was as fresh and pure as spring water. And there was something elevated about his blood, something in it that was like the first drop of water drunk by one who was in the extreme of thirst. Something beyond the taste. It was life. So much more than she'd ever felt anyone possess.

The same way that she'd thrown herself at him, she flung herself away from him. These decisions that she had to make in split-second, violent actions. Vanja let herself lie on the wet ground, gasping for breath.

And her heart was beating.


	4. IV: Lullaby

A/N: I can't thank everyone enough for the reviews. Keep them coming, okay? So, I know this one's a little shorter than usual, but the next chapter will make up for it.

"_In both the day and the night…  
In all the darkness and all the light…  
Here in life, and so in death…  
In our blood and in our breath…"_  
- Inkubus Sukkubus, "Supernature"

IV. Lullaby

Vanja knew that it would be wrong to think badly of Nuala, but she couldn't help but wonder, with a little laugh, what must be going on with her. After Red's battle with the elemental, when they'd all gotten back to headquarters, Nuala had explained to Vanja the _extent _of the siblings' connection. Vanja understood that they were twins, that they had a link. But she didn't realize the degree until Nuala told her herself. So what was this moment like for Nuala?

Nuada pulled Vanja out of her ponderings when he grabbed her off the floor, sweeping her up into his arms and stepping into the sunlight. Vanja's heart was hammering. Impossibly loud. _God, how did I ever miss this? _she thought. _I can barely even hear myself think_.

"You'll get used to it," Nuada assured her.

She wondered again if he could read her mind.

"A little," he told her, a broad smile spread across his lips. "I just skim the surface."

Vanja narrowed her eyes at him. "You let me wonder, all this time?"

If it was possible for his smile to widen, it did.

Vanja shook her head, then let it drop back, let her entire body relax in his strong arms. She closed her eyes and let the sun warm her skin. No fire. No burning. It was nice, but almost disappointingly simple. It happened so fast. A drink of his blood and suddenly her heart was pounding and she was granted the ability to sunbathe. Vanja's eyes snapped open.

"Let's go up!" she requested urgently.

"We shouldn't -" Nuada protested, his more logical reply flimsy in comparison to Vanja's newfound enthusiasm.

"Oh, bollocks!" she dismissed his logic. "Only for a minute," she assured him, writhing out of his grasp and planting her feet back on the floor. "C'mon," she urged, grabbing his hand and pulling him along with her as she ascended the steps.

"This way," he corrected her, pulling her down from the stairs and guiding her toward a different path.

Vanja soon realized why when the route emptied right out into a back alley. Vanja took over as leader and quickly climbed a nearby fire escape, up to the building's roof. Vanja found a good vantage point and sat down, Nuada seating himself next to her.

The only vision more beautiful than the sunrise was him. He was beyond breathtaking, impossibly awe-inspiring in the full sunlight. The subtle golden glow of his skin seemed to her the epitome of that ancient, Grecian kind of beauty. But then she smiled when she remembered he was even older than that culture. Not only was his body the visual definition of life, but his hair seemed fuller, much more alive. More blond and with the slightest of waves, it was an unbelievably far cry from the colorless, dismal lankness of his hair when he was hidden away underground, in the dark. _This is no elf_, Vanja thought, _this is an angel_.

Vanja couldn't stop herself from touching his face, bringing him toward her as she leaned closer to him, touching her lips to his. His lips smiled against hers, and he draped an arm over her hip. He was beginning to get the best of her - hell, he already _had_ - and she was again feeling wary of letting go of her control. Vanja pulled away from him and shook her head a little, physically clearing her mind.

"Will Nuala tell the others? About us?"

This seemed to be the wrong thing to ask. Nuada's face, which, such a short time ago, was peaceful - happy, even - was now furious. But Vanja could see clearly that his rage was not directed at her.

"No," Nuada hissed through his teeth, seeming almost to be in pain. He took a moment of silence, and calmed himself slightly. "She is…unaware."

Vanja stared at him, confused, curious. He took a deep breath, and stood. Vanja knew he was going to begin to pace. She was quickly understanding that when Nuada was agitated, it was probably impossible for him to sit still. So she stood as well.

"There was a time," he began, still sounding bitter, but with a twinge of reminiscence in his voice, "when Nuala and I had no secrets from each other. We _couldn't_ have had secrets, even if we had wished to."

He spoke with his back to her, pacing a short length of the roof, just as she had predicted. He turned toward her, continuing his tirade.

"And I'm not sure when it happened…exactly…but…somehow, we grew apart. Now there are things that she can keep from me. And things I can keep from her. _Secrets_," he spoke the word with great sorrow, stepping close to Vanja. So close she could see loss in his eyes.

Then he turned again, looking like a caged animal.

"She is no longer on my side. She was prepared to let me die, to let herself die, for _them_. And why? Why should she prefer them to her own people? When they have brought nothing but misery and death, to our kind and countless others," he raged, his voice a deep growl, all confusion and anger.

Nuada turned toward her again, his incensed words never slowing. More than Vanja listened to what he said, she thought that maybe this was an indicator of his honesty. That he could just lose himself like this in her presence.

"She is so blind! They have done nothing for her, and yet she protects them like her own. And she is helping them. Helping them to hunt me. She would die to save them…" he stopped where he stood, his expression holding infinite pain, his lean chest heaving now with a different kind of exertion. "She would rather us die…both of us, all of us…than to see the humans perish."

The momentary softening of his voice exploded into a sudden roar of frustration.

"Why? What is it she finds in them worth saving?"

Nuada set his eyes on Vanja, looking at her expectantly, as if she held the answer to Nuala's betrayal. As if Vanja could tell him why Nuala wanted to save humanity. Vanja exhaled a heavy breath and wrapped her arms lightly around Nuada's shoulders.

"Calm yourself," she whispered. "If she does not know of your intentions with me, of mine with you, then why she stands in our way is of no consequence."

Vanja almost shuddered at her own words. They sounded like something she would have said many years ago, to many other men, in many similar situations. Was this the path she was ready to take? The side she was ready to choose? The role she was ready to play?

"I used to _know_," he breathed, agonizing. He buried his hands in Vanja's hair and leaned his forehead against hers. "Why don't I know? Why have I lost her?"

Vanja bit her lip. In her mind she was damning herself.

"You may have lost her, but you have acquired me."

Nuada pulled away so that he could look into her eyes. He looked shocked.

"Your answer, then?" he whispered, as if hearing something he had never expected.

Obviously he had taken her words earlier as seriously as she had. He must have sensed the hesitancy in them. She knew he was probably sensing it now too, as the silence drug on, and Vanja watched his expression fall. She still did not have an answer for him. Could not give it to him yet.

"I am sorry," she breathed, feeling ashamed. "I cannot. Not yet…."

"I understand," he told her, pulling away from her embrace.

She knew that he did not understand.

"Nuada," she began, trying to explain, "the things you know about me, the things you said the night we met… I can only assume that you've watched me."

"I have," he turned toward her, new vehemence in his voice. "For so many years, I have."

"Then certainly you know how fickle I am," she told him honestly.

Nuada's expression softened enough that Vanja felt he was understanding her meaning now.

"And this is not a decision that can be made impulsively. I have too many things to work out first. Because if I say yes, it's permanent, isn't it? You have to realize that for me, a relationship is only as good as how easy it is to get out of it. That's the way it's always been. I never stay with anything, with anyone, for too long."

Nuada smiled slowly, sadly. "Yes. I know."

"But I don't have that luxury here," Vanja continued. "I'm used to relationships having an open door. But the door to ours is closed and very well locked. If you are my choice, then you are my choice. I won't be able to go back. And I'm not so sure I'm ready to make the choice yet."

Nuada looked thoughtful. "I understand. And I will wait. As long as you need, I will wait."

Vanja knew the "but" was coming when Nuada's eyes seemed to darken, all of a sudden becoming sinister.

"However, do not expect my plans to halt for you. I _have made _my choice," he told her, perhaps a little resentment flashing in his eyes.

"I know," Vanja nodded. "I know that. I don't expect you to change anything for me."

Vanja thought on this, knowing that Nuada would continue his quest for the Golden Army with or without her. And in a flash of realization that complicated everything further, Vanja knew that that could endanger Red, Abe, Liz, and the others just as much as siding with Nuada could. Vanja knew that if she were not at Nuada's ear, it would be easier for him to kill her friends. She had confidence in HB, confidence that he could take care of himself and the others, should the time come to fight Nuada. But she also knew Nuada's conviction could border on cruelty and cold-bloodedness. She knew Nuada would not let anything stand in his way. But if she were to accept him, to be at his side, perhaps when that fateful time came…maybe that would be the way to save her friends….

In three hundred years, this was by far the most difficult decision Vanja ever had to make.

Nuada must have seen the worry and fear on Vanja's face because when he spoke to her next, his voice was as soft as if the previous conversation had never happened.

"You must be tired," he said, stepping closer to her, wrapping his arms around her.

And now that he said it, she was tired. It was past her bedtime, after all.

"Let's go back," he coaxed her, leading her to the edge of the roof.

They followed the same path back down to Nuada's cave-like home, the darkness seeming strange after the bright sunlight. Nuada led Vanja to the small room under the stairs, and she made herself comfortable among the soft bedding. Nuada lay down beside her, not seeming quite as at ease.

"Do you sleep?" Vanja asked as soon as the somewhat random thought occurred to her.

Nuada smiled. "Not the way you do."

Vanja tilted her head to the side, inquisitive.

"We require only a few hours of a…kind of meditation. A trance. It's restful, but the entire time we are completely aware of our surroundings."

"Do you ever feel tired?"

"Not in the way that you feel it physically. We are children of the Earth, and as tireless as She is. We don't," he paused, looking for the right word. "_feel _the same way that you do. It's deeper. Any way that we feel exhausted, it's like a soul sickness. I think our souls are the only part of us that tire."

Concluding, Nuada's eyes flickered away from Vanja's face, looking off somewhere else, his face relaxed, but pensive. Almost sadness.

"That sounds painful," Vanja murmured, knowing that she'd felt something she'd describe the same way occasionally over the centuries. Surely every immortal must.

"It is," Nuada replied, his eyes coming back to rest on her face.

Then his face lightened and he smiled. He bent to kiss Vanja's forehead. He settled into the blankets and snuggled up close to her, wrapping an arm around her.

"Now get some sleep," he whispered, his breath a strange, warm spring breeze that made her newly-alive skin tingle.


	5. V: Path

A/N: As always, big thanks to my reviewers for all the lovely comments. Reviews keep this story going. I'd told myself a few days ago that no matter when I finished this chapter, it wasn't going up until I got at least 9 reviews. Well, I come home from work, and what do I find? My 9th review. So I scribbled out the last three pages of the chapter in a couple hours, and here it is, "hot off the press."

"_Come nourish me And reproduce yourself  
I consume myself. Rescue me.  
It worsens, I remember myself,  
Bleeding internally. Rescue me.  
For all the dreams That slip away from us  
For all the fears That spread…"_  
- Oomph!, "Rette Mich" (translated from the German lyrics)

V. Path

When Vanja awoke, Nuada was fighting the air. Vanja smiled, warm and comfortable in the bed, feeling a very human resistance to wake. She wondered, in Nuada's mind, if the practice calmed him, like a meditation, or if he was imagining a legion of enemies. She closed her eyes briefly, listening to the soft whistle of the blade cutting through the damp air, listening to Nuada's breathing. Heavy and labored, it still managed to sound focused and determined.

Slowly, Vanja slid out from between the sheets and sat at the edge of the little alcove. She watched Nuada move with perpetual, infinite grace. His weapon seemed a part of him. An extension of his own body. Vanja suddenly felt sadness and guilt for how long it had been since she'd picked up a real weapon. The guns the BPRD expected them to use didn't count for her. Once, she knew how to use a weapon like Nuada did. To think of one's weapon as a part of oneself.

"I can always use a partner," Nuada suddenly offered, twirling the spear to a brief resting position at his side.

"I'm a little rusty," Vanja warned.

"I'll never complain about an easy opponent," he joked, smiling brilliantly.

Vanja shook her head, but with a smile. Nuada's seemingly high spirits were contagious. She stood and picked up a nearby blade. A longsword, a deep silver-gray in color, with intricate floral patterns covering the hilt and spilling over onto the base of the blade. Appraising the blade's weight and spinning the grip tentatively in her hand, she smiled. The feel of the weapon reminded her of her mother's sword, which she had carried in battle for many, many years.

"Do you like it?" Nuada asked, his voice jarring her out of memory.

"It's beautiful," she replied.

"I know you're good with a longsword."

"It's been a while," she reminded him, taking a step forward.

He gave her a smile before striking out, her reflexes catching her barely in time to block his blow. She knocked his blade away with hers and attacked. Nuada countered easily, twisting the spear in a way meant to disarm her. Vanja held fast to her weapon, drew back, attacked again. For long minutes they continued, almost a dance of attacks, blocks, counters. Eventually it became comfortable, easy. Truly a dance.

"So, how does this work? The life thing, I mean," Vanja asked, her breathing just as labored as his, and neither of them ceasing their attack.

"What do you want to know?" Nuada's voice was conversational, despite the way the words were punctuated with heavy breaths.

"Do I have to eat? Food? Like a normal person?"

"If you want to live," Nuada replied unhelpfully.

"What does that mean?" Vanja asked patiently, though she swung her blade a little harder to satiate her sudden annoyance at his playfulness.

"If you want to keep the life I've given you," Nuada began, blocking Vanja's attack but not offering one of his own, effectively ceasing their battle, "then you will have to sustain your health, as a mortal would. If not, then eventually you will die, or in your case, simply go back to undeath."

Finished with his explanation, Nuada raised his weapon again. Vanja had to focus on blocking his attack before she could ask her next question.

"But do I still have to drink blood? As I normally would?"

"Probably."

"You don't know?" Vanja's voice sounded more indignant than she meant it to be.

"I've never let a vampire drink from me before," he answered jovially, seeming to ignore the complaint in Vanja's tone. "You'll have to experiment. It's not like it's going to kill you."

"Experiment?"

It wasn't that strange, but it seemed like a strange answer from Nuada, who somehow seemed like he should be all-knowing.

"Sure. You like that, right? New things?"

Vanja smiled. A smile that knew he was right but also knew he'd gotten the best of her in a small way with that. New things. Yes, that's what Vanja loved. So why was this suddenly making her nervous? This 'living' thing.

"You should show me that some time," Nuada suddenly said.

Vanja assumed that if he wasn't busy blocking her newest attack that he would have gestured at whatever he meant.

"What?" she questioned.

"Your eye. Show me how it works."

"You've seen it, surely."

"Once," he told her. "Surely you can't use it _that _sparingly."

"Things of power must always be used sparingly," she mused confidently, while jumping back from a low sweep of Nuada's spear, meant to knock her down. "Otherwise they lose their power, or become tyranny."

"Wise words," Nuada complimented her, seeming honestly impressed.

This seemed a subject that would interest him anyway. Power.

And suddenly he stopped all together. Seeing him, Vanja let the sword, almost ready to attack, drop to her side.

"Why did you do it? I could never figure out what was in your head. You never told anyone why. And no one ever asked."

Why did she cut out her eye? For this wretched thing she never even used. She didn't know. There were plenty of things she could say, but it could never be the whole truth. She could never know the whole truth. Maybe it just seemed like a good idea at the time. Maybe it was just an inexplicable compulsion. That battle…it was horrible. She was covered in the blood of friend and foe alike, crawling across a stone floor sticky with blood and riddled with corpses, just to get to that discarded gem. She didn't understand how she knew what it was. She just knew. And maybe _that _is why she did it. Carved out her eye then and there, with the tip of the blade of her sword, the sword that had belonged to her mother. Because somehow she knew of the gem's power. Somehow it spoke to her. Told her what it was. She barely remembered the pain. But she remembered the nervous rush she felt when she shoved the red gemstone, perfectly eye-size, into the bloody socket. The last thing she wanted was for her eye to grow back too fast and have to try again.

As Vanja told this to Nuada, he seemed to understand. Despite his question, he didn't seem to want a concrete answer, he was just curious. Just wanted to know. Wanted to know the secret behind the strangest chapter of her life. The one event she couldn't fully explain.

"I used it then, to avenge my friends. To destroy my enemies. I've only used it twice since that first battle, always for the same reason."

"Always for revenge?"

"Yes. That seems to be its sole purpose."

Nuada stepped closer, cupping her cheek in his hand. He observed her closely, looking into her eyes. She knew he was looking at the gem. The Eye of Fire. But whether he was inspecting the way it had melded with her half-grown eye, or if he was speculating of its power, she couldn't know.

"Can you see?" he asked.

"A little. I'm not sure how. Something in the way the eye grew back. My vision's not much different than before. But it took some getting used to at first."

Nuada's hands smoothed over Vanja's hair.

"Amin mela lle," he told her, kissing her forehead.

Vanja smiled and gave him an equally chaste kiss on the cheek.

"I love you, too."

Nuada sighed, but the breath seemed to catch in his throat, as if he were in pain.

"You should go now. Your friends will be expecting you," he reminded her kindly, but his words were slightly terse.

Vanja nodded. She handed Nuada the sword, but he refused to take it.

"Keep it," he told her.

Vanja put it in his hand. "Keep it for me. Give it back to me when the time is right."

Nuada's eyes somehow managed to seem sad and curious at the same time. He took the sword, giving Vanja a small nod. Understanding that her words were a promise.

* * *

Abe stared at Vanja in shock. Vanja wasn't ready for this. She wasn't ready to explain, though she knew she had to. Her breath and beating heart, not to mention her new, very _alive _complexion, wasn't going to go unnoticed by anybody. But she was certainly counting her blessings that no one else was around. That Liz was sleeping and HB was…somewhere. That made her worry suddenly, out of habit. Almost a year with the gang had taught her that if Red's not around, he's probably getting into trouble.

"How did this happen?" Abe demanded, his voice jerking her thoughts away from speculating Hellboy's probable mischief.

Vanja could feel her mouth moving, and she knew no words were coming out. Why did she suddenly feel so sheepish? Like a reprimanded child. It had to be the tone in Abe's voice. Sounding as if he thought she was irresponsible.

"Give me your hand," he said, his voice really making Vanja feel like she was in trouble now.

She held her hand up with a sigh, looking away from Abe's eyes and pouting absentmindedly. Somehow Abe was the only person who ever made her feel like this. Like he was older than her. Maybe because it was impossible to keep secrets from him. He was a born father that way, always knowing everything.

After a few seconds of silence, Abe looked at her with some mixed emotion in his eyes. Vanja wasn't quite sure what it was.

"Vanja…"

"Oh, Abe…I…" Vanja didn't quite know what to say.

She wanted to offer something, some kind of explanation, because she was afraid she'd hurt him, that he'd think she was betraying him.

"You love him," he said, more to himself, a realization.

"Guess we both have a thing for elves, huh?"

Abe's head hung a little, as if he were somehow ashamed that his feelings for Nuala were so obvious.

"Don't tell the others?"

Abe nodded. "Just don't do anything you'll regret. Or anything _we'll _regret," he cautioned her.

Vanja knew the _we _referred to the BPRD. As in, 'don't do anything that will make us have to kill you, Vanja.' That's what he really meant.

"Ugh," Vanja groaned, a strange, abrupt pain spreading through her abdomen. She sighed. "I'm going to get something to eat. I'm starving," she muttered, annoyed.

Abe still seemed grave, obviously giving more thought to the situation than Vanja was at the moment. But, Vanja was tired of giving it thought. That's all she did anymore. Think. What to do, what to do? She _couldn't _think anymore, especially when she wasn't reaching any conclusions.

Clutching her side, hunger pains shooting through her, she walked out of the library, leaving Abe to his contemplation. She made her way through the building, quickly realizing how little she knew about the layout and how large the HQ actually was. Almost embarrassed, she had to stop twice to ask passerby where the cafeteria was. They both looked at her strangely; obviously, her reputation proceeded her.

After finding the building's surprisingly nice communal restaurant, Vanja couldn't help herself from trying a little of everything the - again, surprisingly - large menu offered. From the cafeteria's other occupants, Vanja received looks that were only halfway attempted to be inconspicuous.

While the food was certainly not the greatest joy Vanja could imagine, she was still highly impressed, even with what others might scoff at as "cafeteria food." After all, it had been centuries since Vanja had properly tasted a meal. As a vampire, while some senses, like sight, are heightened, other senses, like taste, are dulled and most vampiri refrain from human habits like eating simply because of the discomfort.

After her sprawling exploration of the cafeteria's culinary offerings, Vanja found herself practically overwhelmed by a very human exhaustion. Confused by the link between food and tiredness, but seeing no reason to deny the impulse, Vanja trekked back to the more familiar areas of the building and found a kind of "guest room," one of the few provided for cases like Nuala's. Laying down on the bed, Vanja was startled by the level of comfort, experiencing for the first time in many, many years just how good it could feel to truly rest, in the human sense of the word. Sleep found her within moments.

* * *

"They're both dead now, Vanja. And it's your fault! You killed them!"

Even through the tears streaming ceaselessly down his cheeks, she could see that his eyes were wild, that the tears were of rage more than sadness. She had thought, that night, that he'd looked like a demon. His black hair long and messy, his brown eyes turned black by the darkness. He kept screaming at her.

"You killed my mother! You killed her and now he's dead too because of you! If you'd never been born they'd still be alive and we'd be happy! Without you!"

Usually, she thought Kalevi was the exact image of their father, the way Vanja was an exact copy of their mother. But tonight her brother no longer reminded her of her father. Her father had never been this mean, never gotten so angry. Though Kalevi was only eight, as he screamed at Vanja, she thought he had a man's voice. She thought she'd be able to forget that it as her brother yelling at her, if she could just close her eyes.

The little girl, just three years old, clamped her hands down hard over her ears. The tears fell from her eyes like waterfalls and she started screaming back at her brother.

"Stop yelling at me, Kalevi! I didn't do anything! It's not my fault! I didn't do anything! Stop it!"

With her hands over her ears, she couldn't hear her own voice any better than she could hear his. Soon she was screaming just as loud as he was. Over and over, they shouted the same words to each other, neither willing or able to hear the other. Vanja tried to close her eyes, close her ears. Make him go away. And suddenly she felt something hit hard against her head, causing her ears to ring and her vision to go blurry. Finding herself on the floor, she could do nothing but cry harder. He hit her again, and she couldn't cry hard enough to release the pain. She tried to tell herself it wasn't happening. This couldn't be her brother, who loved her and who had always protected her. Vanja covered her face with her arms, and when Kalevi couldn't pry them apart to hit her face, he kicked and punched at her stomach.

"No! Stop it! Kalevi!" she cried the words over and over until he pulled away from her.

Just as abruptly as the beating had begun, it stopped. From the floor, Vanja watched, through a filter of tears and blood, as Kalevi stood and disappeared into the darkness.

When she woke again, her lungs were aching and Kalevi was still screaming at her.

"Vanja, wake up! Wake up! Come on, stand up!"

He was pulling at her. She thought he'd pull her arm from her body. Finally, he stooped to pick her up. She was still drowsy as he carried her out of the house, losing his hold on her as soon as he got through the door and almost dropping her right into the snow. He dragged her far away from the house, into the woods.

As the cold shocked her system, she woke completely. Kalevi was pulling her along so fast and with such fear on his face that she didn't dare look back. But she could smell the fire, hear the crackling of the burning wood of their home. Standing deep in the woods, the siblings watched their family home burn. They watched a handful of Russian soldiers linger around the dying edifice and finally lose interest, moving on to the next house, probably.

They sat in the snow, in the woods, for hours. Long after the fire had died and there was nothing left of their home but ash, they sat in the snow with the sunrise breaking through the trees around them. They didn't know what else to do. Kalevi held Vanja on his lap, wrapped her tiny body up in his coat and kept her warm. He stroked her hair so feverishly that it scared her.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, _kultaseni_. I'll never hurt you again. I promise, I promise…"

He went on and on, holding her so tightly that at times she thought she'd suffocate in the tightness of his grasp and his big coat surrounding her. His frightened whisper only served to terrify her, and she felt just as vulnerable in his arms as safe.

* * *

Vanja jerked awake, and almost before she had gasped a breath, Nuada's arms were around her.

"Shhhh," he cooed, "it was just a dream."

"It wasn't a dream," she told him, confused. "It was a memory."

"Tell me about it?" he asked, his eyes boring into hers.

He ran a hand through her hair affectionately, his fingertips brushing over her temple. Vanja felt something cold and sticky left on her skin in the wake of his hand. Before she reached to her forehead, she saw his hands, now hovering in the space between their bodies.

Nuada's hands were covered in blood.

He still watched her intently, ready to hear about her dream.

Vanja looked out over the room, the darkness making it seem as if its walls stretched on forever. Corpses littered the floor, their bodies dark, but their faces bright and recognizable. Blood was everywhere, too red, too discernible in the dark light. Among the faces were those of her mother, father, brother, and every other person she had ever killed. Among the faces were friends, friends she had avenged. And among the bodies carpeting the floor, there was Abe, Liz, and Red.

"No…"

Vanja turned back to Nuada, his face looking slightly pained.

"You don't want to talk about it?" he inquired innocently. "Or, you don't want to tell _me_?" he added threateningly, accusatory.

Vanja couldn't speak. Tears rolled down her cheeks as her eyes wandered the sea of faces again. All dead.

All dead because of her.

Nuada growled next to her, furious. "You're just like _her_," he spat. "You'd choose them over me!"

Before Vanja could know what was happening, Nuada's hand was on her throat. Cold, strong, and vice-like. She clutched at his wrist, trying to push him away, trying to speak. She could do nothing. He was unstoppable, immovable. As she stared at him, already feeling her breath falter, her lungs burn, her sight slowly becoming impaired by clouds of white, she saw, her last sight, with her last breath, that Nuada's eyes were not his own. They were not the beautiful golden green of autumn leaves. They were black. Same as Kalevi's. His Demon eyes.

"No." She didn't know if she thought it or whispered it, but it was her dying word.

* * *

"No! No! No! N-" Vanja's eyes shot open and her hand flew to her neck, waving around her collarbone, trying to fend off her dream attacker.

As soon as she realized her near-death experience was just a nightmare, she allowed herself the opportunity to feel disgust. She and her bed sheets were soaked in sweat. Then, suddenly, fear was upon her. Confused, she shook her head, as if trying to shake off the fear physically. The emotion was not her own, it was transferred to her by Nuala. And not of Nuala's volition, either. Vanja could not read the Elves. Nor could she read any immortal with a particularly strong will. The stronger the mind, the harder it was to read. And Elves, being not only of strong mind, strong will, and a foreign race, were impossible save for the times when they _projected_. When their feelings were so strong that they could no longer hold them in their minds.

Nuala's mind was overflowing with fear and anxiety, and Vanja was picking it up so clearly that it did feel like a physical entity, clinging to her. She staggered from the bed and made her way out into the hall to check Nuala's room, just a couple doors down. The room was empty. Fully awake and alert now, having shaken all grogginess, Vanja ran to the library. As she entered, Nuada - standing so close to his sister that there was obviously some threatening going on, psychological if nothing else - turned to Vanja, and met her with a tiny but acknowledging smirk. He turned quickly back to his sister, as if Vanja had never even entered.

"It's in one of the books," he stated, backing away from his twin, "and I will find it."

Nuada grabbed a volume blindly from the bookshelf. Glancing at it in his hand, he smiled.

"Blue," he sighed. "You always look so beautiful in blue," his voice was light and slightly reminiscent, but his anger and impatience grew with each passing second.

He dropped the book to the floor, startling Nuala. Vanja could feel the elf's fear grow.

Nuada again grabbed a book from behind him. His eyes barely touched it before he gasped again, his anger escalating palpably, "blue."

"Poetry…" he murmured, flipping through the thick volume, seeming almost pensive. "Love…found, and lost."

Vanja watched the twins' interaction raptly. She felt the awkwardness of seeing someone in the flesh after one has dreamt something terrible about that person. Watching Nuada's subtle, almost deceiving abuse to his sibling, Vanja had a horrible feeling that she might still be dreaming…or that her dream wasn't a dream after all. For the first time, she was scared of him. For a few seconds, she closed her eyes. Still hearing his voice, as sweet and beautiful as ever but tinged with the ferocity of a raging impatience, she found herself slowly, oddly soothed. That voice. Three hundred years and she'd never heard anything like it.

"Only words," Nuada sneered, slamming down the second book as he had the first, "I will find it."

Vanja's eyes still closed, waiting for the next syllable from the lips of her own personal angel, waiting for that voice to knock her out of the uneasiness of her dream, waiting to love him wholly again, she was interrupted by the most annoying sound imaginable. Her eyes snapped open, colliding immediately with Nuada's gaze from across the large room. Then his eyes were back on his sister.

"Why?" he demanded, sounding to Vanja exactly the way he had on the rooftop.

His words from that day echoed in her mind. _Why don't I know? Why have I lost her?_ Recalling the perfect sound of his voice, the pain in his soul twisting his beautiful face, the way his eyes were so confused, pleading…

Vanja wanted to run to him. To embrace him right then, right there, and tell him she'd never leave him. She may have had her doubts before, but now…

"Abraham!" Nuala shouted across the room.

And Vanja suddenly realized that half the BPRD was standing behind her.

"No, don't! He'll kill you," Nuala warned.

Vanja glanced at Abe. Her heart sank a little, but she felt like laughing, seeing him there, stunned and still holding the remnants of a six-pack of canned beer. Poor Abe. And the love Vanja had for him, for all of them, surged up again in her. She couldn't…Nuada…she couldn't betray her friends. She couldn't let it be…like this.

"Princess?!" Abe tried futilely to hide the alcohol, as if it could hide the fact that he was drunk, too.

"_Abraham_?" Nuada growled, his tone unable to hold any more vitriol.

He muttered something in his own tongue to his sister that he didn't bother translating for Vanja, but whatever it was, he said it as he drew a dagger and held it to Nuala's cheek.

"No!"

Poor Abe. So helpless. Vanja felt so guilty that she had to look away from the scene, cast her eyes to the floor. But his voice pulled her eyes back to him.

"I _will _kill you, Abraham. And anyone else if that is necessary." Nuada jerked the dagger away from Nuala's cheek, scratching a thin wound. As he did, the same injury appeared simultaneously on his own skin.

"Well,"

Oh god. Vanja rolled her eyes without even thinking about the action. _Red, you're only going to make this worse..._

"Then why don't you just start with me, your royal assness…"

Vanja flinched. God, this was embarrassing.

Red was doing okay with the hero-swagger entrance, but blew it when he met the stairs. Stumbling down the few steps, Red drew a round of sniggering from the BPRD agents looking on. Vanja bowed her head and held a hand over her eyes.

"And your weapon of choice?" Nuada enquired calmly, drawing Vanja's eyes to him once again.

"Five-fingered Mary," Red chuckled.

"You move, and I'll kill your Abraham first," Nuada warned his sister, not taking his gaze away from Hellboy.

Nuada took up stance in front of Red, drawing his spear and brandishing it impressively, his movements nearly too fast for the eye to catch. Vanja didn't bother to contain her smile. And for a moment, she was almost blissful. To love such a warrior.

"_No," _she scolded herself mentally, _"you always do this. You just lose your shit when you're around him. When did you become so weak?"_

"_I don't know….is it weakness?" _she answered herself, pondering.

"Red, you mustn't harm the prince," Abe warned.

"What?!"

"If you hurt him, you hurt the princess."

Abe had barely finished this explanation before Nuada lunged at HB. He avoided the blow, and continued to dodge and block Nuada's attacks as the elf advanced. Red occasionally gave poor tries at offense. It was only a matter of seconds before Nuada had his blade at Red's throat.

Nuada looked to his sister. "Will you give me the crown piece?"

"No."

Nuada twisted the blade, allowed Red to stand, and for mere seconds again Nuada attacked and Red blocked, reaching the same stalemate.

"The piece?" Nuada tried again.

"No."

Red knocked away Nuada's spear, but again, after a few seconds of lightning-fast combat, Nuada had the upper hand, sending HB flying into a table that broke under his weight. Nuada advanced again, following Hellboy around the library in a spar that lasted slightly longer than their previous skirmishes, but still ended with the same result.

This time, Red had his back to Nuada.

"Abe…" Red groaned, obviously tired of holding back.

The thought made Vanja snicker a bit. As if Red was really holding back. Well, maybe he was, but still, it was laughable to think that HB could kill or even hurt Nuada, especially considering his state of intoxication. Red's mind was fuzzy, laid over with a haze.

"Red, I'm so sorry, but they're linked…"

Abe's last words were nearly drowned out by the commotion of Liz working through the small crowd of agents.

"Red!"

"Liz…"

"Red, behind you!" Liz warned, altogether too late.

"Oh, no…HB…" Vanja barely whispered the words, guilt again descending upon her.

"You may have mused in the past, 'Am I mortal?'" Nuada pulled his spear from Hellboy's chest, the silver tip remaining embedded in flesh. "You are now."

Red collapsed, Liz rushing to his side.

"Abraham, many people have died for this crown. He will too. If you want to save him," Nuada jerked his sister's arm roughly, "and see her again, you will find the missing piece, and bring it to me."

And then he was gone. A strange sadness, an emptiness at his leaving, hit Vanja like the tide. She didn't know what to do.

Watching Red lose consciousness and watching agents swarm around him, Vanja realized with more than a little bitterness, Nuada had kept his word.

He didn't make her betray her friends. He had instead taken matters into his own hands.

Had she waited too long? Was this the consequence for not choosing a side? Was she going to lose them both?

Was it too late?


	6. VI: Peace

Whew. It has been a long time since I updated this. I apologize for the wait and I extend continuous thanks to everyone reviewing this. I've been way too busy with essays for school lately to get back to writing this. However, I think I'm close to the end here - a couple more chapters, maybe. Exciting. I'm already planning the sequel.

"_I have heard of your beauty  
Pursue me, beckon me  
to cast the stones from my throat  
in the earth's dark entrails  
My glazed eyes close forever  
My eyes will see If my spirit lives"_  
- Virgin Black, "Of Your Beauty"

VI. Peace

Arms folded over her chest, eyes locked on Red's wounded body in front of her without really seeing anything, Vanja chewed on her bottom lip. She could think this over and over, but nothing would ever be solved. Now was the time for action. To stop thinking and do something. But what?

Blood seeped into Vanja's mouth from her abused lip, and while it startled her at first, it soon became soothing. She let the liquid pool in her mouth, settle on her tongue. She let the flavor linger while her mind raced through the options and possible outcomes.

The steady, lulling beep of the ECG suddenly spiked and Red thrashed and groaned in pain. Snapped out of her concentration, Vanja's eyes focused on Red, Liz, and Abe. She swallowed the blood she'd been holding in her mouth. "Jesus, Abe! Pull the damn thing out!" Liz screamed, sounding on the verge of tears.

"I…I cannot. Every time I touch it, every time I come close to it…it moves closer to his heart. I don't know what else to do. The wound will not heal until the spear is removed," he explained. "We're running out of time."

"Then we go after the prince," Liz stated, determined, "and we make him take it out."

Abe moved away from the couple, toward Vanja. He touched her arm lightly as he walked past her, and she followed him out into the hall, giving Liz and Red a moment.

"What are you going to do?" Abe whispered, his tone both concerned and conspiratorial.

Habitually, Vanja bit her lip again, feeling a little trickle of blood hit her tongue.

"I don't know," she told him, shaking her head.

"I'm going to give him the crown piece," Abe told her.

"You know where it is?" Vanja asked, a little too loudly. Abe made a gesture with his hands for her to keep her voice down.

"I have a good idea."

Vanja nodded, thinking this over.

"I need you to make sure he's not going to try to kill us," Abe threw in.

Vanja sighed with mixed feelings. "I would never let him hurt any of you."

But Vanja wondered just what Abe thought Nuada wanted the crown for. If he was going to give Nuada the last piece, surely Abe realized what that meant. And Vanja slowly realized that maybe none of them really harbored the burning desire to protect humanity any more. Maybe they were all ready to give up the BPRD. To try for something better. To be selfish for once.

***

Sitting in the plane, bound for Antrim, the sun breaking through the clouds over the Irish countryside, Vanja was deep in her thoughts once again. She glanced around the plane. Liz and HB back with her, Abe and Krauss in the cockpit. Her heart felt heavy. What if something happened to them…any of them? Liz and Red were so fragile, Liz pregnant and Red wounded, and Abe, who had always seemed so frail to Vanja that she constantly resisted the need to protect him in the rare instances that they actually went into battle. She was already feeling disgustingly guilty about Red's injury. If she hadn't held back from Nuada for so long, could she have prevented it from happening?

She hadn't felt guilt or concern like this in…years…not since the massacre of her coven. The deaths she should have prevented. The attacks by Kalevi's demons that she should have seen coming. Should have understood. She let so many die because she was unwilling to accept that Kalevi was trying to kill her, to kill her family. She let them all die…because for so long she couldn't bring herself to kill her brother. Vanja closed her eyes, bowing her head. When she opened them again, looking down at her hands, she could almost see the blood on them. Could almost feel it.

Vanja wondered if this was how Nuala felt. Unable to kill her sibling, allowing so much death for the preservation of one life. But for Vanja, it was all for naught. Because she did kill him, just not at all soon enough. Kalevi's blood on her hands, watching the fire in his Demonic eyes simmer and die. Her mother's sword, she never used it again after that. And his death meant nothing. Because he had already wreaked his havoc, had already destroyed her world.

Vanja groaned. She didn't need the memories. Not now.

She brushed her hands through her hair, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

Please, don't let it be like that again. Let this work. Somehow.

Vanja jumped down out of the plane, following the others. She took in a lungful of the clean Irish breeze, smiling. Vanja hadn't been to Ireland since…. Her mind roamed. 1752...? She squinted into the sun. Yeah. 1752. _Jesus. __How the hell has it been so long? And I always loved this country…._

"You were right, huh?"

Vanja jumped a little at the sound of Red's tired voice.

"What?" she asked.

"About the sun thing."

"Oh. Yeah. Hell of a way to test a theory, though," she replied, trying to be jovial.

Over the time she'd spent with the BPRD, Vanja had talked a lot with the others about everything she'd learned about vampiric nature. The longer a vampire lives, the more powers he accumulates. In theory, a vampire could grow powerful enough to establish an immunity to the sun. Abe was the only one who knew the real reason behind Vanja's ability to walk in the day. But Abe and Vanja had to keep each other's secrets right now.

Vanja had been stunned that no one had said anything about the living traits she'd been displaying. Her new beating heart sounded so loud to her that she knew someone would notice. But no one did. And she assumed the lively color of her skin probably very much resembled the way she looked after a meal. Nothing to make anyone suspicious. But the walking in the sun part, she'd just gotten lucky with that.

She followed the others as Abe tried to work with the map. Finally, they stopped where Abe said the map indicated, but they found nothing but rocks.

"Hallo there!"

A legless goblin, his torso anchored to a cart full of miscellaneous not-quite-valuable items, no doubt scavenged and collected over years, rolled up to meet them.

"I bid you welcome, strangers. How can I be of assistance?"

"We seek safe passage to Bethmoora," Liz told the goblin without missing a beat. As if she saw goblins everyday.

Liz explained their plight, and briefly bartered with the goblin over the price of his guidance. The goblin's eye fell on the spear fragment under Red's bandages and he offered to find someone to take the spearhead out, so long as he could keep it afterward. With Liz in agreement to this, the goblin raised a whistle to his lips, letting out a short, slightly musical call.

They all stared in wonder as the rocks around them were pulled out of the earth, rising and forming a giant humanoid structure. In the chest of the giant was a tall, narrow passage way. Stepping through, the group found themselves immediately stranded on a tall ledge, looking out over the seemingly endless labyrinthine ruins of Bethmoora.

"You should have seen this city when it was alive," the goblin muttered, his rough voice punctuated randomly by the clatter of the items in his cart as he drug himself along behind the others.

"What happened to it?" Abe asked.

"Curse," the goblin replied so quickly that his answer overlapped Abe's question. "Soon as the Golden Army was stored here, a plague of silence and death befell us. The world left us behind."

So this was why it seemed so important to everyone that the Golden Army not awaken. But strangely, the proof of the warning did nothing to deter Vanja. She still wished to see her prince triumphant. Because if he couldn't have his Army, then what else did he have? He had her. But Vanja knew that wouldn't be enough. Nuada needed a cause. Nuada needed to rule. That's what he was born to do.

And what pulled Vanja's heart much more than the idea of the genocide of all humanity, was the thought of all the remnants of ancient races that were barely hanging on in the 21st century. All the creatures of other worlds, old worlds, forgotten worlds. She couldn't stand the thought that, if humans remained the force they now were, that all those mysterious creatures would forever remain a mystery. Stripped of their former glory, as Nuada's people were, banished, damned to stories and myths. She wouldn't let that happen. Wouldn't let the last ones of so many races just die.

They followed the goblin through the maze of the ruined city, Vanja trying desperately to imagine what the city must have looked like when it was flourishing.

"Uuhhhh…" Vanja groaned as the Hunger hit her, hard and sudden.

"You okay, Van?" Abe asked, touching her arm lightly as if to support her as she doubled over with the abrupt pain.

"Yeah, I'll be alright…"

_Just give it a minute. It'll go away_, she coached herself. The pain was so much more potent than human hunger pains. The Hunger attacked the entire body with agony until it was sated. She was mentally kicking herself. It had been days since she'd gotten a proper vampire's meal, and what she took from Nuada certainly hadn't been enough to keep the Hunger away for very long. She immediately had the selfish wish that she could see him now. She tried to remember how he tasted. At the time his taste had been overwhelming. Now she thought she'd give anything to taste him again.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Abe, I'm fine, really." Vanja tried to keep her voice patient. Eventually the pain died down to an uncomfortable but manageable ache.

They followed the goblin until he stopped in front of a building that looked very much like all the others except that it was tinted a dull red. The goblin instructed Liz and Hellboy inside, but the others to wait outside.

Vanja followed the events inside the building by tapping into Liz's and HB's minds alternately, though Red was understandably little help to her eavesdropping, considering he was in great pain and eventually passed out. Vanja was struck by Liz's decision when the Angel told her of Red's destiny. It wasn't surprising, but Vanja was impacted by the fact that everyone was being so selfish. Abe with his plan to give the crown piece to Nuada to try to save Nuala, Liz choosing HB's life over the fate of the world.

Vanja had a glimmer of hope that, after these decisions, maybe her friends wouldn't put up so much of a fight. Sure, they'd put up a _fight_, that's what they excelled in, especially Red. But she could only hope that maybe their hearts wouldn't really be in it. Hoped that perhaps she could make them understand that by now, saving the human world was just habit. She hoped she could make them see.

A relieved-looking Liz and a fully-healed Hellboy followed the goblin out of the room where they'd met with the Angel of Death, and the entire group continued toward the Golden Army's chamber. The goblin left them at the stairs that ascended to a large platform, presumably where Nuada was. Vanja's heart raced. Part of her was as excited as a teenager with a crush, dying to see the object of her affection after what felt like so long. Another part of her was terrified, because her decision had been made, and now was the moment for her action.

The suspense of the climb up the steps was excruciating. But when they all finally reached their destination, and Vanja heard that voice again, waves of a strange nervous relief washed over her.

"You are here. So I assume you've brought the remaining piece."

Vanja gasped when she saw him. He looked so different, _seemed _so different. It was not only his dress and his surroundings that made him seem different, but the way he was so close to achieving his goals that he nearly glowed with confidence…he was truly a king now. For a dizzying moment, Nuada reminded Vanja strongly of her sire, Vasek. A superficial but strong pain flared up at the memory of her deceased maker, but a deeper pain was soothed by the love Vanja felt for Nuada. She wanted to run to him now and embrace him, but she had to wait a little longer.

"No, we didn't, but we should discuss-"

"I'm not addressing you, tin man," Nuada interrupted Krauss and Vanja suppressed a grin at Nuada's hostility.

"Abraham," Nuada offered a small smile and extended his hand.

"Abraham?" Red wondered as Abe stepped in front of him.

"My sister is well, as I promised. So…" Nuada prompted.

Abe raised the final crown piece.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Red shouted.

"You would do the exact same for Liz," Abe pointed out, turning only briefly to address HB, then turning back to Nuada and his sister.

"Agent Sapien, don't!" Krauss attempted futilely - the piece had already left Abe's hand and was shimmering through the air, destined for Nuada.

As the crown piece landed in Nuada's hand, as if of its own will, relief spread over Nuada's face. Vanja wished she could be near him, near enough that she could sense the change in his heartbeat and in the heat of his body as that relief and excitement flowed through him. She knew that longing showed on her face.

Vanja and Nuada watched with the same satisfaction and anxiety as Nuada slipped the last piece into place, and the crown accepted it, the delicate little clockwork parts all sliding together to form the whole. The two lovers displayed the same smile, each from opposite sides of the cavernous room, as Nuada raised the crown to his head.

"I am Prince Nuada Silverlance, leader of the Golden Army."

Vanja's stomach turned and her heart fluttered as Nuada's perfect voice resounded with absolute authority through the chamber. Liz and Red moved hands to their weapons.

"Is there anyone here who would dispute my right?" Anger now overwhelmed the pride in Nuada's voice, clearly indicative as to what the fate of anyone foolish enough to dispute him would be.

There was a second of silence, then the huge gears in the center of the room began to turn. The entire chamber came alive. The others looked around, watching the clockwork turn and the mechanical soldiers awaken. But Vanja stared at Nuada.

Finally, a smile broke over his face. His head tilted slightly to one side, and he held his hand out. There was a warmth that engulfed him when he let the kingly façade go enough to acknowledge his love.

"My queen," he whispered, low enough that no one but Vanja could hear.

And even over the clamor of the rising army, Vanja did hear.

Unable to contain her bursting emotions any longer, she ran to him, putting her vampiric speed into her movements. To the eyes of the four BPRD agents, it was as if she'd teleported to the other end of the room. Vanja was already held tightly in Nuada's arms and deep in a passionate kiss before the others even realized she was no longer among them. Vanja ignored the clamor of the others shouting her name or exclaiming, "what are you doing?!" When Nuada pulled away from her, he held her face in his hands and his intoxicating breath caressed her skin.

"I've missed you," he told her, the pain in his voice letting her know that it was true.

Vanja let her eyelids flutter, near closing, and inhaled deeply the scent of his blood. She was so hungry… She couldn't help letting her hands wander over his neck, her fingers resting lightly on his pulse. Feeling the temptation, the need.

Nuada sighed, faking exasperation. "I leave you alone for a few hours…you can't even feed yourself," he scolded her playfully.

Vanja smiled blissfully. Just to be near him again…

But their moment was over. It was time to get back to business. The soldiers were all awake now and had ascended the stairs, overflowing onto the large platform.

"Here," Nuada backed away from her a step and handed her the sheathed longsword.

She accepted the sword now. The time was right. Vanja strapped the weapon on, rolling her shoulders and adjusting the position of the scabbard until the sword was comfortable on her back. Nuada stood a distance from her, but kept one hand on her waist.

"Kill them!" he commanded the army.

Nuala struggled against him, begging him not to do it. Nuada silenced her, holding her arm forcefully and giving her a look of pure hatred.

"Vanja?!" Abe cried out to her, and she flinched.

She'd promised Abe she wouldn't let Nuada hurt them.

"C'mon, Red. _Think_!" she whispered.

She knew that between Red and Krauss, the soldiers could be held off for a while. But Red had to remember. Had to remember that he could challenge Nuada. That was the only way that this could end. Vanja felt confident that if she let the boys fight it out for a while, she could manage to call a truce. But if the Army just battled them into exhaustion, she wouldn't be able to save them.

Nuada's hand still gripping his sister's arm, his free hand wrapped around Vanja's waist, pulling her closer. He inclined his head close to hers. For a few seconds she could forget her friends fighting the Army for their lives, so lost was she in her love for Nuada, in the overwhelming pleasure of his breath, his eyes, the scent of his blood.

Nuada gave her a strange grin, something she hadn't quite seen from him before. It was too arrogant in a bluntly suggestive way to ever be something that seemed normal on his regal features. Nuada's mind sent his feelings to her, emotions and images and words. Of his plans for their future, of his love, and especially his lust, for her. The timing was so inappropriate but also so pleasing because of the inappropriateness, that Vanja blushed, then could barely believe that she'd been moved to _blushing_. She laughed quietly and Nuada, smiling, kissed her forehead.

Then, finally, Red's voice rang out.

"I challenge Prince Nuada for the right to command this army!"

Nuada looked disgusted. "You challenge me? Who are you to challenge me, you are nobody!"

Nuada's anger carried him a step away from Vanja, his hand falling away from her body, but his other hand of course unable to let go of his sister. Nuala still struggled in his grip.

"You are not royalty!"

"Yes! Yes!" Nuala exclaimed, wrenching her arm from her brother's grasp and stepping back. "He is Anung un Rama, son of the Fallen One! He has the right. The challenge must be answered."

Rage spread over Nuada's face. He turned to Vanja. She hung her head.

"It's true," she whispered, nodding.

"Very well, then," Nuada finally conceded, with a 'let's get it over with' air.

Brushing past Vanja, Nuada stopped to take her hand in his. His eyes bore into hers. As he brought her hand to his lips in a chivalrous gesture, his mind whispered to Vanja, '_watch her_.' Vanja nodded, understanding.

'_Be careful_,' her mind whispered back to his. This made him smile arrogantly. '_Don't underestimate him!_' she warned Nuada mentally as he turned his back to her.

As soon as Nuada had descended to the platforms of clockwork gears, Vanja stepped over to Nuala. She took the elf's arm in her hand, jerking Nuala toward her unceremoniously.

"Excuse me, milady," Vanja kept her voice even as Nuala's frightened eyes stared at her. Vanja slipped a hand into the sash wrapped around Nuala's waist, pulling a simple dagger from the folds of the fabric. She secured the dagger in her own belt. Nuala looked dumbfounded.

Vanja chuckled. "You don't really think I trust you, do you?"

She kept Nuala's slender arm in an iron grip as she turned her eyes to Nuada and Red. Vanja took a deep breath. She wasn't necessarily worried about either party, but she couldn't keep the anxiety away. She herself would make sure that Nuada was the victor, if it came to that, but then what? Would the destruction begin today, in mere moments, once this battle was done? Would Nuada simply march his new army out of these ruins and into the human world?

Of course he would.

Vanja cleared her mind. She focused intently on the battle before her. She drew in a sharp, terrified breath when she saw Nuada's face betray pain, his hand straying to his arm. Vanja glanced at Nuala. But she didn't need to look. She could already feel the elf's blood, warm and wet on her hand where she gripped Nuala's arm. Vanja's breath quickened, deepened. She gritted her teeth against the call of the Hunger. It felt like electricity in her veins. She fought the compulsion with all the strength she had, a low growl rising in her throat. Vanja turned her eyes back to Nuada, trying to make him the center of her world. Focusing on him to distract her from the Hunger. Trying to imagine her love for him as something concrete and tangible, something she could hold onto in her mind. Something she could use to weather the storm of her desires.

Hellboy fought well. But there were times when she worried for him, moments when she thought Nuada had him. After everything Nuada had told her, promising his love, devotion, and fairness to her, would he still kill her friends? Would he even try to hold back?

Dodging Nuada's spear, Red disappeared under the gears in the center of the room. Nuada waited, weapon at the ready and never looking more like a hunter, for Red to surface again.

"_Behind you!" _Vanja shouted, using their newly established mental link.

The fact that she was not the first to give the warning in the last few hours was not lost on Vanja.

Even as she said it, it was too late. Nuada turned in time, but Red was too close. He grabbed Nuada's throat. Vanja leaned forward, ready to move in. Her grip tightened unconsciously around Nuala's wounded arm, causing the elf to whimper in pain. Hearing her, Vanja immediately released Nuala's arm altogether, knowing the pain was also Nuada's.

Red threw Nuada to the floor, obtaining his spear in the process. In a moment so unlikely and so _wrong _that it made Vanja's vision blur in anger, Red was standing over Nuada, holding the Prince's own weapon to his throat.

"Kill me," Nuada's shuddering breath was more hatred and surprise than defeat. "You must. For I will not stop. I cannot."

"Sorry, pal. I win. You live."

Hellboy reached for Nuada's crown. He was interrupted by Vanja, holding Nuala's stolen dagger to his throat.

Vanja didn't have to say a word. Red looked at her with disbelief on his face at first, but once he saw the burning rage in her eyes - whites bloodshot and irises darkened from prolongation of the Hunger - and the way her chest heaved with determined breath, and how her hand was like stone; not a single tremble of doubt as she held the blade, he understood.

Love.

Truth be told, even Red was a little scared of Vanja in that moment. Perturbed by how out-of-control she seemed. She looked absolutely ravenous; wild. He'd never seen her like that before. None of the BPRD had. After three hundred years, Vanja was usually the epitome of control. She held her thirst in check, and she rarely got worked up about anything. Around HQ, Vanja was actually the peace keeper. She'd certainly settled many an argument between Red and Liz.

Looking at Vanja, HB knew that he must look just as crazed whenever Liz was in danger.

"I'm not gonna kill him, Van," Red told her, his words slow and emphatic.

"You're not gonna touch that crown," Vanja specified, her tone an exact match to Hellboy's.

"Vanja!" Red gasped, "think about what you're saying!"

"I know what it means as well as you do, HB."

Vanja _felt_ the shot before she heard it. Her mind felt it coming. Without a conscious decision, her hand unsheathed the Elven sword on her back. As soon as she drew the weapon, she knew exactly where to hold it. The bullet ricocheted off the dark metal. Vanja felt a surge of power, partly from the acute awareness her vampiric senses afforded her - an awareness that was wholly refreshing after being given so many human traits - and partly, she knew, from the new weapon she wielded. It was so powerful it was like a living being. She felt the sword's power the same way she had felt the Eye - it spoke to her. This blade would become a part of her now, same as the Eye.

"Please don't be stupid, Liz," Vanja scolded, not even needing to look at Liz to know the shock on the woman's face, or the way her hands must be shaking around that gun.

Vanja's distraction of Liz and HB was all Nuada needed. One second, Vanja's eyes were locked on Hellboy's, the next, he was being pulled forward as Nuada jerked violently on his spear in Red's hands, bringing Red's weight down on top of him. And on the dagger in his hand. Hellboy groaned in pain, and Vanja felt a stab of pity for Liz.

Throwing Red's body off him, Nuada scooped up his spear and stood. Vanja leaned a little closer to him, though her eyes and mind were still on Red's again-wounded body and her concern for the long-suffering couple. Nuada's dagger had found almost the same place that his spear had a few hours earlier. Adding a final insult to injury, Nuada bent over Red and removed his dagger from Red's torso.

Nuada wrapped his arm around Vanja as a screaming Liz slid down to the floor next to Red.

"Seize them," he ordered, the Army instantly following his command and roughly grabbing up each of the BPRD agents, as well as Nuala. "Refrain from killing them, but be sure they do not interfere. Take them below."

Vanja forced herself to turn a deaf ear to the cries, screams, curses, and pleas of her friends. She could help them later. But right now Nuada and herself were the only ones she had to help.

"Move out," Nuada continued, pride and strength restored to his perfect voice. "Kill every human in your way."

When the room was empty, Nuada turned to offer a smile to his queen. Seeing her famished appearance, the suggestion of dark veins beginning to appear around the sides of her face, he sighed.

"By Corellon…" he muttered, shaking his head and appearing scolding, like he couldn't believe her irresponsibility.

But he never discarded his smile, even as he offered her his wrist. Vanja grinned, eyes wide, exhaling excitement. She took his wrist in her hand and met his eyes. Vanja brushed her nose against Nuada's vein, savoring the scent of his blood before she bit into his skin. A deep, ragged moan of obvious pleasure tore from Nuada's throat, and his arm around her waist seemed impossibly strong to Vanja, lost in the bliss of his taste. He held her as close as possible, his cheek pressed against her hair, his invigorating breath against her face. His blood was like the liquid form of his breath - sweet and pure, but sinisterly intoxicating.

It seemed she spent an eternity in the euphoria of Nuada - the heat of his body; the harsh, uneven inhales and exhales of his breath; the strong, taut muscles of his arm that her fingers traced and caressed as she consumed him. Finally, she heard his voice.

"Stop," his tone was firm, but the whisper in which he spoke was weak and quiet.

Vanja pulled her mouth from his wrist, but licked the wound clean until it healed. When she looked at Nuada again, he might as well have had "love" written on his face for all the warmth he was starting at her with. She smiled to think that watching such an act could move him so. Nuada brushed his fingers through her hair.

"I must go now," he told her, "and you should see to your friends. It will be easier to keep them if you explain. And the blood will heal him."

Vanja nodded. She had many questions for Nuada, concerning the future, but she trusted his judgment enough not to ask a single one. This was his future. He had earned it.

"Any requests?" Nuada asked happily, seeing the contemplation on her face, for sure.

Vanja looked a little sheepish. "Spare the artists?"

Nuada laughed boisterously, the musical sound echoing in the gigantic chamber. But he nodded. He hugged her tightly and gave her the usual kiss on her forehead.

"Amin naa tualle, A'maelamin." _I am your servant, my beloved_.

Nuada began to pull away from her, but Vanja clutched at his hand. She didn't want him to leave. Her eyes roamed his face, as if the visage wasn't already burned into her memory.

"I will be back, my love," Nuada chuckled. "Soon. And I'll bring you a meal."

Vanja smiled, releasing his hand. It was beautiful to see him in such good spirits. Now she had to let him go. War was in his veins, in his heart. It was where he belonged. And it wasn't as though she feared him not coming back. She simply wanted more time. The hours without him had dragged into eternity, but the hours with him were more like seconds.


	7. VII: Beyond Time

Ok, so...I was a little hasty with the posting and deleting of this chapter. I wasn't feeling very confident about it. The recent flood of reviews I've gotten has made me decide to put it back up. But I will stress that this chapter is just a rough draft. I haven't been able to revise it because my mind has been elsewhere lately. But hopefully I can get some helpful feedback, especially since I think the idea of bringing three new characters in during the course of a single chapter is a little iffy.

"_For this freedom, I have given all I had  
For this darkness, I gave my light  
For this wisdom, I have lost my innocence  
Take my petals  
And cover me with the night"_

- Emilie Autumn, "Rose Red"

VII: Beyond Time

Vanja descended the stairs to a series of crumbling rooms, down in the very heart of the clockwork that woke the Army. The rooms showed their age, and would be useless as a real prison, but when the prisoners are surrounded by twice as many huge, mechanical soldiers, the conventional trappings of imprisonment become obsolete.

Red lay on the floor of one of the rooms, the walls of which were all in such states of decay that the area might as well have been one large room. The others were gathered around their wounded hero. When Vanja entered, Liz's tear-streaked face distorted into the very image of rage. Liz leapt from the floor and threw herself at Vanja, letting out a strange, grief-riddled war cry as she did. Vanja's face was stoic, but showed her sadness. She grabbed Liz's arm easily before the woman's body even connected with Vanja's, and jerked her around so that the arm was twisted behind her. Vanja wrapped her other arm around Liz's stomach, holding her close.

Liz broke down completely, crying so hard that her attempts to ask "why?" came out as nonsense syllables.

"Sshhh….It's okay, Liz," Vanja whispered in her friend's ear, "everything's going to be okay. Please calm down so that I can let you go."

Liz's sobs slowly began to quiet, and Vanja released her. Liz slid back down to the floor. As Vanja stepped over to the others and knelt down next to HB, she heard Liz's flames ignite, crackling and becoming the physical incarnation of the woman's rage and sadness. Vanja realized that Liz had held it back. Liz could have killed her if she'd wanted to. Vanja took a deep breath, swearing to herself that she'd never hurt Liz like this again, and praying that she could keep that vow.

"How you doin', Red?" she asked quietly, placing a hand over his where he held the wound.

Hellboy's eyes rolled up to meet Vanja's with a mix of annoyance and hate.

"Sorry," Vanja sighed, "I'm not sure if this will keep you from hating me, but…"

Vanja pulled Nuala's dagger from her belt, and cut open her wrist. Abe gasped, Krauss looked intrigued - however that was possible without facial features - and Liz and Red were both too far gone in grief and pain, respectively, to notice what was going on. Vanja pulled Red's hand away from the injury, and let her blood drip onto the open wound. Red flinched a little, but showed no other sign of pain or relief.

After a few drops of blood, Vanja's wrist healed up but Red's wound didn't look any different. Vanja groaned in annoyance and cut open the vein again, hissing and trying to bite back the pain. She figured she must have cut deeper this time because the blood practically _flowed _from her vein to the wound in Hellboy's side. Abe, Vanja, and Krauss all felt themselves leaning forward to see if the blood was doing its job. It was. Slowly, the wound began to shrink, and, finally, close altogether.

Red groaned, gasped, and opened his eyes, much as if he were waking from a dream. His mind seemed to be working around what had just happened, and all his thought processes showed on his face. Vanja smiled despite the situation. Liz rushed to Hellboy's side, her entire body still engulfed in flames, her hands running over Hellboy's healed wound.

"What the hell did you do?" Liz hissed, sounding more as if Vanja had just poisoned HB rather than healing him.

"Nuada's blood."

The emotion that suddenly took over Liz's face resembled insult. Shock, perhaps.

Then Red started laughing. A boisterous, rumbling sound that Vanja hadn't heard in quite a while.

"The sun," he choked out, between peals of laughter.

"Yeah. I drank from him, and now," Vanja was surprised at how much her words sounded like confession, "my heart beats and I can walk in the sun."

"So, what do we do now?" Liz whispered, the flames receding as she wiped the tears from her face.

Vanja stood.

"I'm sorry, but you don't do anything."

"Vanja! This is fucking ridiculous," Liz spat, tired and exasperated. "You're going to let him destroy the world?"

"Not the world, Liz," Vanja corrected, her voice calm and even.

"Just the humans, is that it?"

Vanja nodded. "And, I know it's terrible, because _no one else _here has ever damned the fate of humanity for love."

Liz and Abe both shifted their eyes away from Vanja, knowing full well what she meant.

"It was different, Vanja, we didn't actually _let _it happen…" Liz's argument was weak and she knew it.

"So, just because you didn't think about the consequences, you're not guilty of anything? Come on, Liz. Do any of you even have the strength to do this anymore? Liz, you're pregnant. Abe, you've got Nuala now. Do you honestly have the conviction to go on protecting a world that hates you?"

Vanja knew none of them liked the rationale, partly because it was true. But she could see all of them thinking about it.

"Liz, what are you going to do when the kids are born? You want them to live in this world? How's it going to shape them? Will _they _still want to protect it after seeing how it repays those who do? I know this is hard to accept, guys, but really think about it. What were you fighting for? What were you protecting?"

Silence fell, and was broken shortly after by footfalls echoing down the stairwell. Vanja slipped past the Golden Army soldiers to meet the approaching party. She was surprised to find herself staring at two tall, beautiful men with glowing, tanned skin, angular faces, and identical manes of long, blond-white hair. One carried a bow, and the other held a broadsword and had another strapped to his back.

"Milady," they each addressed Vanja and bowed their heads in recognition.

"Nuada sent us to watch over the prisoners," the sword-wielding elf informed her. "He wishes for you to join him. There is a party waiting upstairs to escort you."

"I…" Vanja hesitated. She didn't want to leave Red and the others. She somehow felt that by staying here she would be showing loyalty. But did they really want that from her? What more was she going to do for them by staying here? And she would admit that the curiosity in her was growing - _what was Nuada doing out there? _

"Be kind to them," she warned. "They are my friends."

The elves both nodded reverentially and moved past Vanja, down the corridor toward "the prisoners." Vanja watched them for a moment, then made her way up the stairs and back to the main room. She moved gracefully over the now-dormant clockwork in the center of the room. Another pair of elves was waiting for her at the top of the stairs.

While the elves sent to keep an eye on HB and the others resembled Nuada so strongly Vanja knew they must be of his clan, the two that now stood before her were a different race entirely. They were slightly shorter and more muscular than Nuada and the others, their skin was a warm, light brown and both elves bore many tribal-looking tattoos. Although there was little to distinguish what their ages might be, one wore his dark blond hair long and loose from restraint, giving him an air of a kind of middle age in which he was done with expression through physical style. The other wore his brown hair in a short Mohawk that did afford him the atmosphere of youth but also seemed extremely fitting for a tribal, warrior lifestyle. Their simple leather clothes also spoke of their lives, the apparel very different from the perpetually regal garb Nuada always wore. That simplicity seemed to reflect bravery, for the seemingly younger one was shirtless, perhaps for comfort, or simply to better sport his tattoos.

Vanja was still taking in their appearances when the Mohawked one smiled and greeted her with a strong hug that caught her completely off guard. Vanja froze in his arms, alarm and amusement mingling on her face.

The other shook his head. "I apologize, milady," he told her, regret and a strange fondness mixed in his voice.

The one Vanja had now decided was definitely the younger released her and took a step back, his face holding a charming grin.

"I am Caelaias," the older one continued after his apology, "this is my brother, Malashk. Forgive his lack of manners."

Vanja chuckled as Malashk rolled his eyes, like he'd heard it all before.

"Nuada wanted you to see," Malashk informed her. "It's _incredible_ out there," he continued with a look in his eyes and a tone in his voice that indicated he wished he could still be "out there."

* * *

"So, why do you two look so different from Nuada and the other two he sent?" Vanja inquired while they rode horses through the deserted countryside.

"We're wild elves," Malashk informed her.

"The names don't matter much now," Caelaias was quick to point out, "there are so few of us left."

"Nuada's clan are sun elves. There's the most of them left," Malashk continued as if his brother had never spoken. "There's always been the most of them, because they naturally live longer."

"Sun elves? That's why his appearance changes out of the sun?" Vanja thought out loud.

"Yeah…" Malashk's voice trailed off as they crested a hill and what Malashk had described earlier as "incredible" came into view.

"Incredible" wouldn't have been the first word Vanja would have put on the scene, though she supposed it really was. But she wouldn't think of calling something so devastating and destructive "incredible."

Every building was burning, and the light of the fire made clear the red shimmer of blood on the streets. But this place was deserted. The battle had already been fought here. And something had been done with the bodies, because there was plenty of blood, but no dead. They rode through the abandoned city in silence and didn't speak again until they were out, back on lonely, spacious countryside.

"We're all kind of worse for the wear these days," Malashk continued abruptly, "all of us forced out of our natural homes by the humans, but the suns have it the worst. Out of the sun for too long and they start looking like albinos. And it was terrible on the collective morale. Sun elves are warriors, but they were forced underground, and after that the culture was never the same. They just accepted it. The rest of us didn't know what to do. The sun elves have the highest population, and once the humans started taking over we all followed their lead. Besides, sun elves are perfectionists. They tend to have more conviction than other elves. They're the perfect leaders."

"Hmm. Sounds about right," Vanja agreed, thinking about Nuada.

"Malashk loves our history. Most of us don't bother thinking in terms of race anymore," Caelaias told Vanja. "We let the past be the past. Now is the time to put differences aside."

"Except for Drow, right?" Malashk, suddenly incensed, shot back at Caelaias. "We don't discriminate among elves, but still we all hate the Drow."

The three rode through another deserted town, but this time the conversation didn't cease.

"Drow?" Vanja asked.

"They were once called the Ilythiiri and their nation was one of the most powerful. Corellon Larethian banished them to the Underdark after their goddess tried to invade Arvandor and-"

"Whoa, okay," Vanja stopped Malashk, becoming a little overwhelmed. "You'll just have to give me a personal history lesson sometime."

Malashk grinned, obviously happy to have his knowledge recognized.

They rode on in comfortable silence, passing through many more empty towns. Eventually, they began to hear the sounds of battle up ahead. More like the sounds of a massacre. This wasn't truly battle. Screams became louder, as did the sounds of blazing fires consuming everything in their path.

Malashk nudged Vanja. "Check it out," he told her, pointing to the sky.

A huge, winged creature circled the town just ahead of them. It looked to have no apparent purpose, but seemed rather to simply love being in the air. Vanja watched it suddenly dive and release flames from its mouth, setting another building ablaze.

"Is that a…?" Vanja couldn't get it out.

"Yep," Malashk nodded. "A red dragon."

"What does that mean, a _red _dragon?"

"Red dragons are the only ones who can breathe fire," Malashk answered. "Well, gold dragons can too, but they don't like fighting very much, and obsidian dragons, but all the gem dragons are pretty much extinct now."

"Wait, you mean there are _other _dragons who can do _other_ things besides breathe fire?"

"Yeah," Malashk replied, eager to show his knowledge again, "silver and white dragons actually breathe cold air, bronze dragons have sleep gas…"

"Okay, that's enough," Vanja gasped, shaking her head in disbelief that she was actually staring at a dragon. "So how is it dragons are still around?"

"Dragons have the highest population of all magical races. It's because they can take a human form, and look as dragon-like or human-like as they want to in that form. Dragons have been blending into human society for ages."

"You're fucking kidding," Vanja turned to Malashk, her face betraying absolute shock. "That's _amazing_."

"Come on, now," Caelaias encouraged. "Nuada's waiting for you."

They rode to the very edge of the town, where Nuada was standing, a spectator's distance away from the closest burning building. He smiled at Vanja and stepped forward to meet her horse, petting the animal affectionately and offering his hand to help Vanja down from her mount. Vanja slid off the horse and into Nuada's arms. He held her tightly and she was amazed by the sense of relief that swept through her at his touch. She felt like she was exhaling a breath she didn't know she was holding, letting go of an anxiety she wasn't aware she harbored.

Nuada pulled away, held her head gently in his hands and looked into her eyes.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," she told him.

"I know I told you that I'd return to you, but I just…" he trailed off as he cast a swift glance toward the siege behind them. "I wanted you to see this. I thought you should be a part of it."

"What about Red and the others?"

"The elves I sent to watch them will make sure they are safely escorted to the castle and given comfortable quarters."

"The castle?"

"Yes. There _are_ castles here," Nuada smirked.

Vanja laughed and stared at him in disbelief. Was that a joke? From the lips of her prince?

"I've chosen one to be a kind of temporary base," he explained amiably.

"I love you," she stated after a moment of silence, smiling at him, her love being fueled by the way he smiled back.

He leaned close to her, so their foreheads touched.

"I love you."

"Come," he beckoned, breaking their embrace and simply taking her hand, leading her over to where his own horse waited patiently for him.

Nuada stood behind Vanja and wrapped his arms around her. Vanja didn't realize that Caelaias and Malashk had gone until she saw them out on the "battlefield."

"What do you think of Malashk?" Nuada asked conversationally, seeming to read her thoughts.

"He seems like quite the historian."

"He is. Though he has not lived through much of it, Malashk knows more about our history than most of us care to remember. He is extremely important to our future. It will be largely up to him to objectively teach future generations."

Vanja smiled, giving her mind a moment to register the thought of future generations of elves. Her thoughts traveled back to the scene before her, and she saw a small group of elves systematically moving humans into large barred carts.

"Are you taking prisoners?" she asked, seeing that that was obviously what Nuada's elves were doing.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"We can't kill them all, Vanja. The extinction of an entire species is never a wise idea."

Vanja thought about that for a moment as she watched a Golden soldier kill an entire family just a few yards from where she stood.

"Your suggestion was a good one," Nuada told her, speaking directly into her ear to make his voice more prominent over the sounds of the slaughter.

"What?" Vanja asked, knocked out of the trance of watching death.

"Artists."

"You took that seriously?"

"Of course," he replied. "It makes sense. Why not populate small human cities with those who could actually contribute to a society?"

Vanja watched the red dragon swoop down from the sky with phenomenal grace and speed and snatch up a young woman from the ground.

"_Dragons_, Nuada," she breathed.

"They _are _a sight to behold."

"How many are there?"

"Thousands."

"What do you even need the Army for, then?" she asked.

"Dragons take the sky, the Army takes the ground. It's a simple tactic. One that will be very important once we make it to America." He paused, then answered her next question before she said it. "I sent the others on ahead. This attack has to be very quick. I split up the Army and gave groups to each of my generals. The dragons scout ahead and take care of what they need to in order to prepare for the rest of us."

"We're only a few hours into this and you've already got such a system," Vanja stated, slightly awestruck, turning around briefly to see Nuada smirk.

"Nuada! You're missing all the fun."

Vanja turned away from Nuada, toward the sound of this new voice, one that rang with depth and a strange youthfulness. Vanja gasped aloud when she saw the man who matched the voice. No, not a man, she realized, because she knew the dragon was no longer in the sky. This was his human form?

He was as tall as Nuada, with a similar physique, but his body seemed more dramatic due to the fact that all he wore was a pair of leather pants resting low on his hips. His shoulder-length hair was like fire, a thousand different shades of red, yellow, and orange all dancing around each other in the wind. His pale skin retained the slightest trace of scales, a strange patterning outlined in red. Blood was splattered all over his body. His eyes were bright, sparkling like rubies as he wiped blood from his lips.

"I'm enjoying myself just fine from right here," Nuada answered, his arms tightening briefly around Vanja.

"Ech," the dragon scoffed, tossing his hair out of his eyes with grace that defied the wind. "Ireland is done," he continued, seeming a little disappointed. "We're ready to cross the sea."

"Very good," Nuada nodded. "Vanja, this is Ridesos," he introduced her to the dragon.

"Milady," Ridesos bowed his head.

Vanja felt an annoying blush creeping to her cheeks at the idea of constantly being addressed this way.

"I have _never _seen the Eye look more beautiful," he told her, charming yet matter-of-factly.

"What do you know about the Eye?" Vanja stammered, shaken.

"Well, I should know quite a bit," he replied, "an Eye of Fire is one of the most prized possessions among red dragons, not that we ever need to use them. It's all in the spirit of collecting," he explained, smirking. "May I ask how you came upon yours?"

"That is a tale for another time," Nuada interrupted. "For now, let's take England."

Ridesos scoffed again, rolling his eyes. "You're no fun anymore, Nuada. All business." He smirked and winked at Vanja before transforming back into his dragon shape.

"Come on, then," Ridesos grudgingly encouraged them.

Nuada gestured for Vanja to climb on the dragon's back.

"What?!"

Nuada shook his head, mounting the dragon gracefully and pulling Vanja up behind him.

"Hold on," Nuada told her, his voice soft and seeming to understand her nervousness.

Vanja wrapped her arms tightly around Nuada, buried her face in his hair and managed to bite back her scream as Ridesos took to the air.


End file.
